


Determination of Hearts

by Kroux



Series: Bright's Saving Grace [2]
Category: Demonheart (Visual Novel), Neverwinter Nights
Genre: Dark, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Swordplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 58,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22853878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kroux/pseuds/Kroux
Summary: We follow Bright's journey after the events that occured in Feline, her temporary life in the military camp, her moral dilemmas and her feelings concerning a certain Scarcewall knight.
Relationships: Sir Brash/Bright (Demonheart)
Series: Bright's Saving Grace [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637185
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	1. Of Monsters and Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright tries to come face to face with her new reality, and tries to understand what exactly happened to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Bright's Saving Grace begins here! If you missed the first part, be sure to check it out before reading this one!

"How vital is trust to human survival? How necessary to ensure our dominance as a species? Trust is the only thing we possess that demons do not. Without trust, we disappear. Without trust, we become extinct."

***

My fingers twitch in an involuntary spasm. Dirt. Cold dirt. Moving my fingers consciously now, I realise it isn't just a dream. I can really feel my hands touching the ground. Dirt made its way under my fingernails, too. 

This isn't a dream.

This is real.

This exists.  
  


I inhale aggressively. Opening my eyes as eagerly as my muscles allow, I try to examine my surroundings. Not an eternal oblivion. Not a never-ending abyss. Simply a small room sturdily built from stone. No other details present themselves, my eyes have not yet adjusted to the prevailing darkness.

My breathing is totally off. Shock overwhelms me. I drive my fingers deeper into the dirt, if only to reassure me that this isn't another nightmare. Finally, I come to a complete realisation.

_I'm alive. How is this possible? I felt my spirit leave my body._

Pushing myself up from the ground, resting on my elbows, I look around a bit more. Still gasping for air, my lips and eyelids quiver in terror. _Where am I..? It almost seems like a dungeon. Or a manmade cave with-_

An iron door. It's completely encompased by stones that form walls around me. Seems immovable, too. Only a set of keys could open it. I am certain now. This stone room is.. A prison cell. I'm trapped in a cell.  
  


_...Why? I was executed. Dead. Surely, it wasn't all just a hallucination, right?_

So far, that is the only possible answer, though. If I truly were executed, I wouldn't be in a cell right now. Still, my body feels atrocious. As if somebody pushed me from the highest window of the highest tower, letting me fall right to the ground, head first.

My neck also suspiciously burns. Maybe an aftermath of the nightmare?

I reach out to examine it.

Bewildered by what my fingers discovered, my hand pulls back instantly.

_No.. Impossible. No, no, no._

Suddenly trembling, I still manage to sit up. I watch my hand, as if it was its fault for conveying what it felt on my neck. It's shaking. Not just the fingers, but the entire arm. Moving it nearer again, I reach for my neck and close my eyes.  
  


It's really there. Sensitive to touch. A soft scar, all around my neck in a straight line. 

It wasn't a nightmare.

It was all real.

It all honestly happened.

That means.. Orchid truly **is** dead. I died, too. And now.. I'm alive.

Having opened my eyes again, I move my hand away, placing it in my the palm of my other hand, squeezing them both together. My vision slowly turns blurry as my head shakes in an unintentional nod.

 _She died. She died all alone. Somebody murdered her. And I was executed in the place of her murderer._ I whimper as a single tear drop falls on my forearm.

The inescapable question remains: Why am I alive? I have a scar that proves my punishment took place. A scar that proves my death. 

_If all of it really occured.. Was the nightmare that followed also real?_ Reason calls for doubt, but it definitely feels like a genuine memory. Meeting that demon, examining his infernal 'lair', seeing all those victims..

Among all the psychotic things he said, something caught my attention. He called me something I have not heard before. 

'Demonheart'.

 _What the hells is a demonheart?_ A demonic heart is clearly involved, but how exactly? Metaphorically or literally? And what does it have to do with me, anyway?

  
Noise approaches my cell. A sound of metal colliding with stone, the same one the demon produced earlier. _Maybe it is him?_ I scurry over to a corner of the cell, as far from the entrance as possible, and wait.

A figure appears before the door that keeps me locked in. A big, brutish figure. No horns, no wings. It's a human. A man. Pressing a small blade against the iron door, he watches me. I can't see his face, I can't say who he is or what emotions he's expressing. It's simply too dark. But, noticing his gear, he is most likely a guard. Or a prison watch dog.

He spits through the door, in my direction. I'm too far for him to reach. "Fucking demon whore," he barks as he shakes the door viciously. Sitting in the corner, I pull my knees to my neck in fear, probably resembling an egg in shape. 

"Thought you'd just mend your body, resurrect and then stab us in the fucking backs? Well tough luck, bitch. You are **never** getting out of here. **Never**! My sons and grandsons will spit on you like I do now, even after I'm long dead. And you will still be here. Locked in this fucking cell for the rest of your cursed demonic fucking life."

He kicks the iron door and spits in my direction once again, before leaving to harrass some other unfortunate soul. 

_Demon? He thinks I'm a demon..?_ Maybe a part of me truly is demonic, if what the man said is true. Having 'resurrected' after 'mending my body'. That hardly seems like something an ordinary human would do.

_What kind of a monster am I?_

I don't feel any different from my usual self - ignoring the giant scar and my completely broken body. I'm not experiencing any cravings for newborns, no inner voices telling me to burn down villages. Am I really a monster? A twisted, demonic creation?  
  


A voice pleads for mercy from somewhere outside my cell. A female voice. "Please, no, leave me alone! I **beg** you!" she cries as grunting and groaning of someone else follows. I suspect it might be the guard I had just met, he was heading in the direction from whence the cries come.

"If you don't shut the fuck up, you get no food. Understand?" the man shouts violently. 

Silence. 

More of his grunting and her soft crying follows. No more shouting. You can feel hope gradually disappear from her voice. Tears pour out of my eyes as I tremble, still clutching my knees close to my body. Still sitting in the corner.

 _Why am **I** considered the monster here?_ His behaviour is the one resembling a demon. Beastial and animalistic. Wicked. Detestable. Depraved. Unforgivable.

He's the one deserving of an execution. Meanwhile I died for nothing and now she suffers for even less. How can such injustice be allowed? Gone unpunished? Overlooked?  
  


Recalling what the demon said, I now think about his question again. 

"Will you forsake others in order to achieve true justice?"

Who would suffer if the guard died for his sins? His family? Probably. His friends? Maybe. Is any of this important while considering the severity of his punishment? No.  
  


A door somewhere outside closes. Locks click. Shortly, the guard walks past my cell again. He stops only for a moment, then proceedes to wherever he was heading. And his steps slowly become more and more distant. Instead of them, the woman's desperate sobs sound through the outdoors.

Justice will come. One day. There's no other option but hope for it. Not hoping for it means a complete surrender to insanity.  
  


I wipe my cheeks, place my hands on the ground and lay my head on them.

Life is only going to get worse. Desperation fills this entire area. Rest will be necessary. Tomorrow only invites more suffering.


	2. Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright suffers in prison due to the abuse from a guard. A knight comes to visit her.

Dirt. Cold. Hatred.

This is my new reality. At least it was so far, throughout the last few days. And I can't even say for certain how many days it's been. How many nights I've already spent here.

Keeping track of the times I go to sleep doesn't work. I always wake to different situations, one time it's still light outside my cell, another time it's pitch black. And I try to sleep as often as possible, anyway. It's not like I have anything else to do here. Every stone in this room has already been examined. Every inch of the ground walked. Each part of that rusted but sturdy gate glared at.

A few opportunities have presented themselves to me, so I used them and examined the outside. Opposite of me lies another manmade stone cavity with a door, just like mine. To the left, cells only extend further. An endless line of them. Bending and forming a slight turn, I can't say what lies beyond it. Logic says more prisoners. More torment.

To the right of my cell are located only a few others like it, and a slight distance from the last one, a reinforced watchtower stands tall. Guards and watch-dogs come in and out of it when their shift comes to an end. Departing and making their way home, while we are left here to rot in the same clothing. The same dirt. The same deprivation.

Someone changed my clothes before I awoke here first. Instead of the dress I remember wearing, I am now wearing a ragged shirt and pants torn at my knees. Going by the feeling of the material, it resembles tattered plaid that sacks for potatoes are made of. Incredibly rough on the skin.   
Wearing nothing at all would be more comfortable, but that is not happening. Even going past the fact that I would be completely exposed to the perverted eyes of guards, it's simply too cold here. No warmth, ever. Only cold.

What seems to make this sensation worse is that godsdamned amulet, still hanging below my neck with conviction. I can't even begin to imagine what kind of magic Orchid had to cast on it. The fact that it prevailed on my body even after death is concerning.   
I do wish I could have seen the carnage it probably caused during the change of my clothes. Some poor peasant must have been incredibly excited to see it, thinking their life would turn around if they sold it. There was never any chance for them. This perhaps reinforced the idea that I was some sort of demonic witch, unfortunately. 

The guards bring me food twice a day. Most of the time it's that animal - Bold. I've heard some of the other guards call him by his name. He loves spitting in my meals and throwing them on the ground, into the dirt. I usually don't eat very much during his guard duty.   
Others don't seem to care enough to do that. Maybe they aren't aware of the circumstances behind my arrest? Or, maybe, someone still believes me innocent? I wouldn't count on that, especially because of my resurrection.

I fall asleep.

Dreams don't reach me here. Not the usual kind, anyway. The only dreams I remember are of this place. This cell. I can't even recall what Feline looks like. The faces of my parents. Orchid. Mark. Flora. Everything seems completely obscured in my mind.

The door shakes. I shiver violently, uncertain of what is happening. It's Bold. He woke me up. He finds a lot of pleasure in this - interrupting my sleep, not letting me rest.

"Demons don't need to sleep, bitch. Stop acting like you're a fucking human. You're so pathetic, it's sad."

With a menacing laugh, Bold drags the small blade I always see him holding on the stone walls. That screech. That fucking screech. I've come to truly despise that sound. Every time he wakes me, Bold makes sure I hear it. He must have figured out how much I loathe it.

"I don't understand why we shouldn't just burn you. You don't fucking deserve our food." Pulling the blade back, he takes a torch from the nearby wall and shows it to me, looking at it longingly. For the first time, I finally see his face in full detail. A few small scars, one on his forehead, one before his ear and another across his mouth. He is also much older than I anticipated. A true veteran in this position.

"Maybe one day, your cell accidentally burns down," he turns to me again, brows furrow in disgust the second he sees me. Disgust and.. a fragment of fear. Bold moves the torch through the door and laughs, "What a shame that would be! A rogue torch hitting the ground of your cell! Did you know there is a thick layer of hay below the dirt? I knew. And I will sleep much better now, knowing you are fully aware of it."

Waiting for my reaction, he does not move. _He means to burn me alive and call it an accident? There would be no escape for me. The guards would just.. watch me as I burned. Would I even return from death if burnt completely?_ This uncertainty terrifies me. My toes curl as I bite my lip down, attempting to stop it from quivering.

Satisfied with what he sees, Bold retreats from the door and places the torch back where he took it from. "Sweet dreams, bitch." One last scoff before he leaves me again.

 _He.. may have been lying. If anyone would, it would be him._ I turn my attention to the ground. With rapid, almost desperate movements, I remove only one cup of dirt before the inevitable realisation. Hay. It **is** there. If he set flame to a small portion of it, the whole layer would come ablaze. The layer of dirt is thinner than I had originally thought.

 _It's true. He can burn my entire cell down whenever he likes. Watch me beg for help as I burn alive._ Attempting to cover this discovery, I drag the tiny hill of dirt back where it resided before. As if this does anything. Maybe I just don't want to see it, don't want to think about it.

_Surely.. if he honestly meant to do this, he would have done it already. Or he started detesting me more than before._

Either way, I know he shared this detail to keep me from resting. Disrupt any peace of mind I might have come to, any hope, any dreams.

_Even if he does follow on his threat, I cannot stop him. I won't give him the pleasure of seeing me mortified whenever he walks by. I won't let him break me._

I breathe in.

I breathe out.

I need to return to sleeping, at least for a moment, before he comes around again to taunt and torment me. At least for a short while-

Multiple steps head in my direction. Perturbed, agitated, angry steps. They come to a halt before I can even see anyone.

"Five minutes, tops, Sir. She's not worth your time," Bold reassures someone as I hear his brutish steps leave my cell's vicinity. _A.. sir? Is it a knight? Did a knight come to visit me?_ I can hardly believe anyone would-

A figure appears in front of my cell. A familiar figure. Too familiar. _Right, **this** knight._

Bitter silence. We look at each other expectantly for a few moments. He breaks the silence first.

[[ Around - Modulogeek ]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZjTGFeBXAY)

"Hello, Bright." His voice sounds just like I remember, now also hiding a certain sorrow in the background. Even if I can't see his face properly, I know he's frowning as he speaks. His hand also seems to be clutching the handle of his sword tightly.

I exhale before responding, "Hello, Mark. I.. I am surprised you came. But, even after all that happened, I appreciate it." I smile dejectedly. It's true. Maybe the constant hatred from Bold and petrifying loneliness truly broke me. Seeing Mark here brings some level of calm.   
I may have hated him for the way he behaved, the way he spoke to me during the knighting. All of those issues pale in comparison to what followed. None of it matters. I think I'm even willing to forgive him.

Mark readjusts his posture and tears his gaze from me, staring at one of the walls of my cell. "I came for a reason. There is something I needed to say to you, personally," the hand that clutches his sword pushes it as far down as possible. He might just break the belt connecting the sheath to the rest of his armor.

"I cannot be associated with a villain such as yourself, Bright." My brows and lips tense as he continues, "I've broken off our engagement. A knight cannot be betrothed to a murderer, let alone a... demon."

A lump builds in my throat. My eyes shift all around his body, looking for a sign, anything that would assure me he doesn't mean what he's saying. My hands clutch one another in panic, looking for consolation.

With a shaky voice, I implore, "Surely, you cannot mean that! You know I would never-"

He interrupts me before I can finish what I wanted to say. "It doesn't matter! Even if you were innocent, your soul is still corrupted! Only someone cursed by demonic powers could survive a beheading! I saw you die!" Anger dominates his voice. He can't even bear looking at me. Everything he says is directed at one of the walls.

Before continuing, he readjusts his posture once more and clears his throat. "This is the last time we see each other. I will pray to the three Gods to ease your suffering," Mark follows emotionlessly. Turning away from my cell completely, he adds a last "Goodbye," before departing.

The door once again only leads my eyes to the cell opposite of me. An empty cell. Lonely cell. As lonely as mine feels right now.

_He's gone. Mark is gone._

_***_

It's only been about a week, but it already feels like a year. Every word is getting longer. The flies are getting louder. Hope is running out and, when it finally disappears, time will stop completely. 

Like... grains of sand in a shrinking hourglass.

***

I collapse on the ground, my back taking a hard hit from a rogue stone right below me. Remaining silent, tears flow down from my eyes, along my cheeks and ears, as my eyelids tremble. Staring at the ceiling, I plead for help. Plead to the Gods, the demons, their overlords, anyone.  
  


_Please, someone help me._   
  



	3. White Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright meets Rose under unexpected circumstances and learns more about what happened to her.

Days come to a crawl. 

I spend hours just staring at the ceiling thoughtlessly. 

I can't tell how long I've been here anymore. A few days, weeks, months, maybe years. Guards don't tell me anything, only Bold interacts with me. If I were to ask him, he would tell me something along the lines of being here for 'so long all the ones I love are dead'.  
  
Over my time locked in here, I've lost feeling. Both in my body and my mind.  
  
 _What do flowers smell like? What colours can they bear? What is it like to walk barefoot in soft, spring grass? Bathe in the Sun's embrace? Feel warmth? Freedom?_

Sometimes I look forward to Bold's visits. They're the only time I actually feel something - even if it's purely negative emotions. Each conversation, each insult, each torturous remark. They give me something to think about when he leaves afterwards. Something to keep my mind busy.

I sleep. I awake. I sleep again. Visions of the cell fill my dreams. I awake again. I sleep again. A vicious cycle, an infinite loop. 

Keeping my hope still alive, I clutch the amulet while praying. Its coldness comforts me. My prayers are not directed at any particular entity. Orchid comes to mind. She bestowed a powerful amulet upon me. Maybe she could help me, even from the afterlife? I doubt so. My desperation must be reaching peak heights.

Imagining what it would be like, to break the door, shatter it, enter the watchtower and escape, I fall asleep again. Not for very long. A loud bang wakes me.

Looking up from the ground, I see Bold clutching the iron door's lock in his hand. He's angrier than usual. Honestly outraged, and it seems to not be my fault for a change.

"Get the fuck up. You're free to go."

 _..?! What? Is that his new way of trying to torment me?_ I lift myself up from the ground, stand up completely and lean on the wall opposite of the door.

"Not falling for that, sorry." I cross my arms on my chest, preparing for whatever he tries next. But.. He is actually unlocking the door. My eyebrows furrow in confusion and anticipation.

 _What.. is he doing?_ The door is swung open, colliding with one of the walls, letting out a horrible sound.

"Get the **fuck** out. **NOW**." This is the most upset he's ever been. His hands are trembling as he clutches the door in them.

 _What is going on?_ Still wary of his intentions, I approach the, for the first time, open door. It all feels like a trap, waiting to snap when I finally bite. I never dared to honestly expect freedom. Once you cling to that expectation, realising it will never come, destroys you. 

Stepping outside of the cell for the first time ever, the Sun blinds me. Having to cover my face completely, I still need to narrow my eyes to see anything. I can't help but hyperventilate. _It's really happening, isn't it?_

Bold barks at me furiously, "Looks like you have some friends in the Southern Alliance. Go upstairs and **never** fucking return, or I'll run my blade through your skull," before pushing me in the direction of the watchtower. I fall over to the ground, but get right back up.

I can't believe it. It's real. I look around with a slightly dropped jaw, examining the trees and distant grass. Next, the watchtower's surroundings, its roof, the door,.. After spending so much time confined to a single stone room, everything is awe-inspiring.

"I said fucking **move**!" Another push comes from behind me. I remain composed through it, not falling over. Now that I'm almost certain this isn't just a trick, my mind is running wild. So many thoughts. Thoughts concerning Bold.

_You will get yours. I promise. I will find a way to repay you for all the kindness you've sown here._

At first uncertain, but soon confident, steps take me to the watchtower. The ground turns from soil to only stone, freezing my feet. There was never a need to give me proper shoes. I assume I'll recieve a pair soon, if I am to truly leave.

Upon entering, the tower's hallway embraces me unwelcomingly. More stone walls, no decorations, only a table and a few chairs for the guards to sit on. _Still more comfort than I had. Anyway.. He said to go upstairs._

Taking the staircase located to my left, I ascend through the tower. Only a few torches light the narrow passage. I wasn't aware of how large the tower actually is. At the top of the staircase I find a long hallway with plenty of small, empty cells at the sides. Progressing further, I intend to take the door at the very end, but someone stops me.

A female figure appears from behind the door, looking in my direction. She's.. waving at me?

"Hello again! Wow, your hair really took a hit, huh? What a mess. Still cute, though!" she laughs as she approaches me. I think I know her voice.. And she did say 'again'.

Close enough for me to see, I recognise her. The Scarcewall woman from the knighting. Surprised, my eyebrows raise slightly. I.. never would have thought I'd be happy to see her again. She's the first person I've seen in ages that doesn't seem to detest me. I almost have an urge to run to her and give her a hug. But, alas, I'm still unsure of what exactly is going on.

"I'm Rose Jayden, by the way. Should have introduced myself before, so rude of me! I'm the ambassador from Scarcewall - your guard was supposed to tell you, but from your confusion I assume he didn't." With an annoyed expression she rolls her eyes but smirks playfully immediately after. As if everything that's happened was somehow comical.

"My name.. is Bright," I finally speak. I can't help but shiver. Hearing my voice outside of the prison cell sounds almost unnatural.

"I know, sweetheart. It **is** my job to know things," she says with an apologetic frown. "Come, you look absolutely terrible. I had a bath drawn for you. We will talk on the way. There are some things you need to know." She points to the door she entered the hall from and bids me to follow her.   
Rose's aura is incredibly refreshing. She's like an angel. Her pearl white cloak shines through the darkness, her quick and sure steps sound confidence through the hallway.

_I can't believe this! Either this is the most bizarre reality or the best dream I've had in... ever._

As we make our way through more corridors and buildings, she attempts to explain what happened and why my release even came to be. Apparently, some time after my death, Feline suffered an attack from worgs and other beasts. In order to prevent the spread of this plague, Scarcewall and Feline agreed to form an alliance - The Southern Alliance.

Soldiers are becoming a scarce resource as the attacks become more and more powerful. The only solution is to deal with the cause itself - a twisted witch of the old forest ruins, Rivera. Since no soldier can be spared, the Lords have started pardoning chosen criminals for their fealty to their respective cities. If they agree to fight the monsters, they will be allowed to return home after the witch is defeated.  
And that is where I enter the picture. Releasing a female prisoner for the purposes of fighting isn't the usual procedure. Most of the women in prison are too weak to make good fighters. The difference between me and those women is my healing ability. The reason why I'm alive at all. The reason why Bold seemed to despise my entire existence.  
  
"With your regenerative powers, you're a perfect candidate! We will train you for as long as the frontier will allow. And once believed you are able, you and a group of soldiers will venture to the witch's lair and slay her!" The way she describes it is truly fantastical. Almost like this future she's bestowing upon me comes straight out of a heroic tale.

"I understand the reasoning, but.. I've never fought in my life. I know nothing about nothing when it comes to this," I argue back at her. I am not trying to undermine myself, merely voicing my concern.

We exit a building's corridor and once again, step outside. The Sun blinds me again. This will take a while to get used to, but I couldn't care less. Colours surround me again, I feel like crying tears of joy just from being outside. Feeling the wind, watching the trees move. 

"That's alright, sweetheart. Demonhearts are much easier to train than our usual recruits. I've had the pleasure, and misfortune, to work with some in the past."

I stop when I hear what she said. That word again. Demonheart. _I need answers. The demon never gave me any, so maybe Rose can?_

She looks back at me, expectantly. "Something bothering you?" Rose closes the distance between us, perhaps unsure if I mean to attempt escaping.

"You called me.. a demonheart? Can you please explain what that means? The guards always said I was cursed, but I.. I don't know."

Rose narrows her eyes and stays still. As she did once before, she seems to be examining me fully. Her lips part and her eyes return back to their natural position.

"Being a demonheart means having eaten demonic flesh. Either skin, muscle or organ tissue, hearts being the most powerful. So, in essence, it means you consumed some demon flesh. And taking into account who you lived with, it was almost certainly Orchid." 

My heart stops. _No.. Not Orchid. Not her. She must be mistaken._

"There.. is no way she would do that. You must be wrong!" I yell out unintentionally. Feeling has returned to my body. Pressure crushes my lungs in its grasp. Even the demon accused Orchid of serving me demonic flesh. I didn't want to believe him, but now there is another person claiming it also.

Rose notices my shocked expression. "Sorry to break it to you. I thought you were aware of it."

 _She.. wouldn't. Would she..? What could have possibly led her to doing that kind of a thing?_ My vision turns watery, blurry, as my hands spring to my face. Of all people, Orchid was the last one I'd expect to betray me. To fool me. I nearly fall to the ground, but Rose catches me. She's surprisingly strong.

"Hey, now! Everything is okay!" Still holding me in her arms as to not let me fall, she hugs me briefly. "Don't overthink it. As far as you should be concerned, you're still the same Bright. Perhaps only slightly more interesting!" As she pulls away from me, she winks and smiles. "Orchid may have only meant to do this to protect you. Maybe she knew what was going to happen and wanted you to survive. She was one of the most impressive witches in Shermyr, I wouldn't put it past her if she succeeded with future readings."

Wiping tears off my cheeks with one of her gloved hands, she holds my hand in the other and drags me behind her. "We're almost there. You will love it! That little shack could do with some ambiance improvements, but having seen the prison cells, I know you will appreciate it."

Rose... She's the perfect blend between Orchid and Sybil. Maybe I am overly fond of her because of that. After all, I don't know her at all. I can't help but make the connection between them anyway. 

_Is it possible Orchid only meant to turn me to help me? Did she know all along she was going to die? Was she aware of what fate would befall me because of it?_ Either way, this is the only option I am willing to accept. She **must** have turned me for my own good. For my own protection.

We arrive in front of a small wooden shack. "Well, don't be shy! The bath awaits. I've also prepared my old armor for you to wear. It's adjustable, so you should have no issues fitting into it!" She smirks as she eyes my hair with concern. "And.. be sure to wash your hair, too. I remember it being red, but it's so dirty you would never even tell." A hearty laugh.

"I'll stand guard at the door, 'my lady'," she adds with a cheeky wink.

Grateful for everything she's done for me, I respond, "Thank you, Rose."

Smiling at her, I eventually turn around and enter the shack.  
  



	4. Final Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now out of her cell, Bright explores the prison garrison and answers one of the two questions she was given. Rose Jayden joins her in this adventure, and while they travel together, Bright slowly comes to know her better.

Six torches enlighten the single small room inside the shack. Going by its layout, this must have been a storage room until recently. A huge wooden casket filled with water lies right at the center. It resembles a massive barrel, but cut in half, big enough for me to completely lie down in. I cannot wait any longer, it's too enchanting to resist.

 _Ooh... This is... too good to be true._ Having taken all of my clothes off, I submerge myself into the warm water. My skin feels like it's being kissed by thousands of tiny angels. An indescribable sensation. My entire body is being caressed as I lie still in the casket. If I relax any further, I might just lose consciousness.

Rubbing my hands all over my body, I try to get all the dirt off of me as fast as possible. I want to leave everything that happened here far, far behind me. Never wanting to think about it. Slowly, I am starting to look like a human being again.

Finally, my hair. I knew to leave it for last, since it gathered the most dirt. I step out and crouch next to the casket, submerging only my hair in the water. I can see what Rose meant with her comment. The water turns dirty very quickly as my hair recovers its natural colour. The moisture is a blessing for my hair, also. Even on touch it started resembling straw.

Grabbing a few pre-prepared rags, I put one around my hair and dry my body with the other. An armor catches my attention in the meantime. Completely charmed, I had only managed to run for the bath and ignored everything else in the room. A rogue-like dark armor set lies on a shelf, ready for me to don it. It's incredibly similar to the one Rose is wearing, only different in colour and with a foreign symbol on one of the shoulderpads. Not the Scarcewall insignia, I can recognise that one confidently now.

 _Looks like I am dry. Time to put the armor on._ The stack of armor contains the entire outfit. Chest, legs, boots, shoulderpads, forearm and thigh bracers and belts of various kinds. Undoing a lot of the belts to fit the gear on properly, it finally envelops me. Luckily the armor reaches high enough for me to stuff my amulet underneath it. Fewer questions raised, fewer problems to deal with.   
Something still feels uncomfortable. I reach out to find out what it is. A vial was hidden in one of the leg pockets. See-through liquid is inside.   
_I recognise this vial!_ It's one of the powerful poisons we had hidden in a cabinet at Orchid's. Of course we would never sell it, but Orchid loved experimenting and teaching me about potions and poisons. A few were kept around purely sentimentally. Or.. so I believed.

_Did.. Rose put this in for me? She said she prepared the armor... How did she even find it?_

This poison is incredibly potent. A few drops on a blade will take down any beast. I should keep it with me, it will definitely come in handy at some point, if I am to learn how to fight monsters with actual soldiers.

Well, nothing else remains for me here. _My hair will eventually dry on the Sun. Time to-_

A fragment of some kind shines from one of the shelves, right into my eyes. I approach to investigate. It's.. a shard of a broken mirror. Picking it up into my hands, I breathe in and look at myself, for the first time in ages.

And there I am. The same face. The same hair. If it weren't for that massive scar, no one could tell I'm any different than I was before. I exhale and smile. Honestly, I think I am starting to appreciate the scar. At least as a symbol of all I've gone through. All that suffering and pain... I reach out to touch it. It's not sensitive anymore.

_Everything will be okay. I'm sure of it. Rose said that prisoners are being pardoned to fight, and once this war against the beasts is won, they can all go home. Meaning I could, too. Then again, a lot has happened in Feline. Even if I weren't allowed to return there, I could still live somewhere else. Perhaps I might even go and find Sybil in Ravage. Live with her, help her..._

These are my first truly hopeful thoughts. The chance to get my life back. I cannot waste it.

Returning the shard back where I found it, I spot a small journal at the very back of the shelf. Searching through it, the pages are all empty. _Oh well, might as well take it with me. Nobody will miss it here._ I can always craft writing supplies. A bit of ink and a feather will last me a while. I put the book between my right arm and my chest, clutching it tightly, as I leave the shack.

Rose turns around with an impish look on her face when she hears the door behind her closing. She isn't alone. Someone is with her, or rather, someone is lying on the ground unconscious right next to her. "I told you I'd guard the door. He seemed very determined to go in and pay you a visit, so I took care of him." Rose laughs under her breath as she kicks the unconscious guard in the side.

_Oh, Gods. She doesn't mess around, does she? I'm sort of impressed, honestly._

"I see... Uh, thank you, Rose!" Grateful for her protection, I give her a genuine smile, but can't seem to avert my gaze from the man. His nose looks completely mangled, definitely broken in multiple points. Either he was causing quite a few problems, or Rose is someone nobody should anger.

"Alright, I'm glad you're all clean and dressed! That armor really fits you. Next, you should go there," she points at a near building, about three times the size of the wooden shack, "That's where the guards keep their weapons. I've already informed them that you will enter. Just go in and take the first ranged weapon you see, also some of its ammo."

"Ranged weapon? I've.. never used one before," I let out a sigh of defeat. "I'm completely useless, aren't I?"

Rose laughs warmly as she pats my shoulder. "Don't worry too much about it. We're heading to a military camp, plenty of different weapons are waiting there. The officers will figure out what style fits you best and then train you accordingly!" A pause. "Well, don't linger! Go in, sweetheart."

Heading towards the armory's entrance, Rose yells after me, "Oh, and grab a bag, too! You might find it useful, especially for storing ammo! There should be plenty of them!"

Inside the armory stand two guards protecting a sturdy iron door. They look upset the second they see me enter. One of them moves towards the door, unlocks it, opens it and returns back to where he stood previously.

"Move it, prisoner. Just because the Lords pardoned you doesn't mean we want to suffer you any longer than necessary. Go in and take what you need."

I enter the room previously locked away by the door closed behind me. Weapons lie on the ground, stored on shelves, hanging from hooks. Pieces of various shapes of armor stand in one corner, while shields of different sizes stand in another. There are also the bags Rose mentioned. I grab one instantly and pull it over my shoulder. _Perfect! I have a place to store the journal in, now._

My eyes spot the ranged weapons Rose mentioned. Bows and crossbows. Some are smaller and lighter, some bigger and heavier. I've got no clue if they work any differently according to their size. _I.. think I could operate a bow without instructions. And the lighter, the better. Right?_

"..Bold? Really?" I overhear Bold's name mentioned by the two guards from behind the closed door. I begin focusing on their conversation. "Yeah, Dish. It's the bastard's birthday today. We've already prepared some wine for him and the rest of us. Apparently Lard doesn't trust us with them, so he moved the bottles to the fucking watchtower. Asshole."

The rest of the conversation doesn't matter. Wine bottles. Watchtower. I think I also know where they are stored.

I pull the small, light bow over my head, the string pressing on my stomach. There are no quivers here, so I take about two dozen of arrows and place them in the bag. Their feathered ends peak out - my bag is too small to hide them fully. Determined, I leave the room and, not stopping to even look at the guards, I leave the armory.

Rose is waiting for me eagerly. The man who lied on the ground is gone. I walk over to Rose and speak before she even gets a word out, "I have to go to the watchtower. Only for a moment. There's something I need to do." I look at her for a reaction. She only smiles mysteriously.

"I know what you mean to do. I **may** have been responsible for having the wine moved." Rose winks and puts a finger over her lips, sounding a silent shush. "Don't tell anyone, sweetheart. Just go and do what you think is right. I don't care either way."

 _She doesn't care? My Gods, she really is just like Orchid and Sybil._ If I weren't so invested in reaching the tower, I might actually be concerned by her not caring at all. Anyway, I nod at her and make my way back to the watchtower.

It takes a few minutes to pass through all the corridors and buildings. Nobody gives me any trouble. Either they were told not to bother me or they simply see my armor and think I am meant to be here.

The hallway again. The one where I met Rose after my release. I saw something in one of these cells. I'm almost certain those were the wine bottles the guards talked about. I start searching them one by one.

_Should I really go through with it..? Poison the bottles in hopes of getting back at Bold for all he's done? He deserves death, but.. Do the other guards? None of them ever bothered me like he did. None of them ever harmed me, or cared about me at all. Even the guards back in the armory called Bold a bastard._

I sigh. Still nothing. More cells await further. I continue.  
  
"Will you forsake others in order to achieve true justice?" rings in my head again. _I don't want to be responsible for the deaths of those who don't deserve it. I would never wish that on anyone._

..There they are. I count eight bottles in total. If I were to poison them all, I would still have about half of the vial left.

_I don't think I can do this. Maybe this whole thing was a terrible idea. But.. that woman. Her and all the others he's forced himself on. They might never get a just revenge if I don't act now._

I need to do this, but.. I need to be smart about it. Cunning like Orchid. Witty like Rose. Determined like Sybil. How can I ensure only Bold drinks the poisoned bottle? I assume other guards will carry the bottles to Bold for the celebration. It's not like Bold will walk in here and just drink the first bottle he sees.

_.. I think I know what to do._

Pulling my journal out of the bag, I tear a page out. Looking around the cell where I stand, I find nothing usable as a writing tool. I step out and examine the hallway. There is a table, someone left a glass of almost used up ink on it. Grabbing it and returning back to the bottles, I pull one of the arrows out and dip its bolt into the last drops of ink.

_What should I write? It needs to be something that would scare off the guards from drinking the wine. 'Only for Bold' doesn't seem good enough. Hmm.. What would Orchid write?_

I start writing what enters my mind. I exhale nervously. Well, hopefully this will be enough. I fold the corners of the paper back to make it look more official. Pulling out the vial of poison, I let about a dozen of drops pour down an open wine bottle. More than enough to kill Bold if he drinks even a sip of this. I won't risk not putting enough in.

Covering the bottle again, I place it a bit further from the others, leaving the piece of paper right in front of it - leaning on it. 'LORD SECOND'S GIFT TO BOLD, OTHERS WHO DRINK IT SHALL BE EXECUTED'. Maybe that is a bit much, but it's the best I could come up with. Hopefully it's enough to convince the others not to drink it. And.. even if they do.. I hope Bold drinks it right after them before seeing the results.   
  
Killing a few innocent guards is still preferable to killing every single one. And Bold needs to die. He needs to be put down. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. And the abused prisoners **are** many, from throughout the past, up until the present.

So, once more: "Will you forsake others in order to achieve true justice?"

I suppose the answer to that question is obvious now. I am willing to take risks in order to achieve justice. But, still, I will always try to find the lesser evil. It might not be the easiest path, but it is the only one I can live with.

***

"So? How did it go?" Rose asks me excitedly, her arm rests on her side, her eyes scream interest. She had this entire thing planned out already. Having the wine moved for me, giving me the poison. _Was she just interested in what I would do? Was this a test to see if I'm a dangerous lunatic?_ I won't lie about what I did, she's bound to discover the truth anyway.  
  
"I left a piece of paper on the only poisoned bottle, it says that **that** bottle is specifically meant for Bold as a gift from Lord Second, and that whoever else drinks from it will be executed." I don't meet her eyes. I suppose I do feel somewhat ashamed for what I've done. Even so, I wouldn't change any of it. This.. will be the first time I kill someone, even if indirectly and without me present. Let's just hope it is Bold, and only Bold.

She chuckles, "A bit corny, but for a first-timer not too shabby! I nearly expected you to poison every bottle. That would have gone **very** wrong. Guards will drink the wine on the way to the celebration, and that poison of yours is a **bitch**. Bold would never even see the wine. So, all in all, I think you did rather well!" Rose pats my back and reassures me with a smirk, "I won't tell anyone, don't worry."

I nod repeatedly as I chew on my lip. Rose whispers and rolls her eyes, "Fuck this place, honestly," before shouting out, "Well, let's go already!" and moving in the direction of the exit. I run after her, following at a very close distance. She makes me feel incredibly safe, as if nothing can ever go wrong. Just like I used to feel with Orchid. I sigh.

The guards scoff as they close the giant gate behind us. They must be happy to finally see us leave. Me and Rose only make it about a minute down the road before she comes to a full stop. I hear her breathe in deeply as she throws me a mischievous look.

"Nice forests, here in the north. The air smells so much better here and doesn't weigh so heavy on the lungs."

I close my eyes and also breathe the air in. All the trees, all the plants,... The smells they produce are absolutely incred-

A sharp pain enters my arm, right below the shoulder. Rose stabbed me.

"AGH, YOU **BITCH**!" I scream out in pain as I hold the wound tightly with my hand. "What the fuck! I thought you were friendly!" I can't stop the curses leaving my mouth. _Gods, this nutjob just fucking stabbed me!_

Rose laughs as she hides her dagger back into her boot. I see she wiped the blood into a small rag, it's on the ground beneath her. "I am really sorry, Bright. I **am** friendly, I swear! Let's just see how fast you can heal!"

She lunges at my arm, pulling my hand forcefully from the wound. Or, lack there of. It's gone. I don't even have a scar. Only the blood that flowed down my arm remains as proof of my injury.

"It's.. already gone?" I ask outloud, completely shocked. Just a moment ago, I felt the dagger's steel. Just a moment ago, I was bleeding from a hole in my arm. And now, a moment later, it's healed completely.

"Fascinating," Rose finally says with awe in her eyes, still running her fingers over my arm. "I've never seen healing this rapid. And this is all after three months in prison, without any training and barely any food." She lets go of my arm and looks at me with great interest.   
"Hmm.. No wonder there is such a... demand for you." Turning her gaze away from me, she bites down on her lip and furrows her brows while tapping the ground with her foot. At last, she begins walking again.   
  
I clear my throat. Feeling slightly guilty, I exclaim: "I'm sorry for using that kind of language, Rose. I.. didn't want to offend you. I understand you only meant to discover the magnitude of my regenerative capabilities."  
Rose turns around and looks at me completely bewildered. "What the fuck? Bright, did you just.. apologise for cursing me out after I stabbed you?" Her mouth is open, she's looking at me like I'm completely deranged. "Honey, I'm glad you know I didn't mean to truly harm you, but.. If someone stabs you, you do **not** apologise to them, whatever their reasons might have been."  
  
Fuck. I'm such an idiot. I exhale in frustration, "You're right. Sorry- I mean.. Gods. Let's just.. forget about the whole thing, please."  
  
Rose looks genuinely worried about me now. "You're still too innocent. You **have** to work on your confidence. Sometimes acting like a bitch will save you from **a lot** of pain. The beasts won't spare you because you're polite to them. The same goes for humans. You need to be prepared for that reality." A pause. Rose shakes her head remorsefully and turns back around, leading me in the direction of the forest.  
  
  
"A carrier is stationed a few more minutes down the path. It will take us as close to the camp as possible. The terrain is rather treacherous around it - that's why the position is so favourable for a military camp."

I nod. _I still can't believe she actually stabbed me. I know she had a.. passable reason for it, but.. damn. I am just too trusting, aren't I?_

  
_**"** Ah, finally, you made your way out of that gods-awful prison. Well done! I was almost losing hope in your ability!"_

Trembling, I answer outloud: "Huh? What was that?" Rose turns around and looks at me suspiciously, "What was what? I didn't hear anything," before turning around and walking again. Her posture stiffens slightly, her eyes narrow as she examines the surroundings, watching for enemies.

_**"** You should probably not speak outloud when addressing me, my dear. After all, she can't hear me."_

_What is this voice in my head? Who the hells are you?_  
  
A chuckle sounds in my mind, _**"** Well, well. That's not a very nice way of greeting your infernal patron, is it?"_

'Infernal patron'. That's what the demon in my dream called himself. Is this him? How is he even speaking to me?

_What do you want from me? You weren't very welcoming when we first met. Can you finally answer some questions for me?_

Silence.

_**"**..We've never met, my dear. After all, I was not even alive when you were last reachable."_

Not alive? Reachable? What the hells is he talking about? Godsdamned demons and their riddles. My neck is starting to get surprisingly warm. Must be the armor, it is quite hot outside.

_You spoke to me in a dream, right after my execution. Told me about acolytes, about what Orchid did, asked me those two questions. Do demons really have **that** bad of a memory?_

Another silence.

_**"** Interesting. Either way, that was not me. I am unsure of who you met exactly, but I was born not even a day before your demise."_

..Wait. What? What is that supposed to mean? Is this some sort of a demon child?

_**"** Anyway, we shall speak again soon. It appears I have some work to do in the meantime. Stay safe, my dear."_

Right. Okay. Of course. What the **fuck** is happening? Did I completely lose my sanity in that prison, so much so that I am now hearing foreign voices in my head? I didn't expect my first hours of freedom to be this overwhelming and exhausting.

Rose's voice reaches my ears. She's been telling me something this whole time. "-and then, out of nowhere, the sack started shaking and wiggling! It completely tore when your body reattached itself to your head. The guards nearly shat themselves in fear!" Rose laughs uncontrolably.

I smirk and shake my head slightly, "How do you even know about this? I can't remember any of it." She responds by raising her eyebrows swiftly, almost resembling a nod, "Like I said, it is my job to know things... But this one was a very badly kept secret."

Suddenly, she points in front of her and excitedly yells, "There it is! Our royal carriage! Fit only for the most well regarded servants to the crown and the kingdom!"

A cart pulled by a horse approaches from behind a tree. It's a complete wreck. How it is that it hasn't collapsed under the weight of itself, I cannot comprehend. I look at Rose, searching for any sign that this is just a joke. Surely, we cannot travel very far in **this**.

With an overly excited smile, she pulls me by my hand while continuing her episode, "Oh, good Lord! What an exquisite piece. Fit for the queen herself! Ah, even she would flush red with envy!"

 _Well.. I admire her sense of humour. She had me fooled for a moment_ _. I genuinely thought she was losing it, just like me with that horrible voice._

We get on the back of the cart. The carrier whips the horse and.. our journey begins.

"Hold tight, Bright. It will be a long and rocky ride," Rose says as she leans her back against one of the wooden walls. "If you're able, try to sleep. I'll protect you from the big, bad wolfs, don't worry," she snickers as she shows me one of her shortswords.

"Won't you also need to rest?" I ask, already lying down on the wood with my hands under my head. Rose chuckles. "I can't sleep with all this godsdamned rocking. Plus, I am supposed to keep an eye on you." _Right. I am still considered a criminal_. I had almost forgotten, honestly. Rose has been too kind, at least most of the time. This kindness completely changed my perception of reality.

She suddenly adds, "It's nothing personal, just orders. For your own protection, too. Worgs and beasts worse than them can attack at any moment." Her eyes narrow as she puckers her lips, "I probably shouldn't say that right before you go to sleep, huh? Well, like I said, I'll keep you safe. Have no fear." 

I exhale. "Okay, then. Thank you.. for everything." 

"No problem, sweetheart." Rose leaves me with a last wink before turning her full attention to the woods. Spying for enemies.

The rocking of the cart is becoming bearable. Maybe even soothing. Gently shaking my entire body, it slowly rocks me to sleep completely.

My first rest outside of that prison. No more Bold - maybe ever, for anyone, if things go according to plan. No more screeching sounds. No more desperate cries. No more.

Hopefully, I can finally dream again.  
  



	5. Dreaming of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright dreams once again. Someone invades her mind.

I sit down on a chair and examine the pamplet in front of me, choosing what meal and drink to order. Voices overwhelm the entire building. 

"Can you see how full the inn is?" Sybil asks without her accent. She's sitting right next to me. Without a wig or a hood on, she looks just like she did the first time I met her. One of her hands is supporting her head on the table, while the other's fingers tap on her thigh.

Looking through the menu, I try to find some options I might enjoy eating. "How about we order two of 'Convict's Freedom' and a bottle of wine?" I ask her, still with my head searching through the pamplet.

Humming a tune I've never heard before, she nearly sings her response, "Wine? Perfect choice. Divinity is on your mind, isn't it? Or do you simply mean to poison me?"

Shocked, I move my eyes from the pamplet and look at Sybil. Her lips and eyes stare me down with hate. The hand previously tapping her thigh is now instead tapping the table, her long fingernails create swift and sharp sounds upon impact.

"What.. do you mean by that? Why would I-"

Sybil's body starts burning in a bright red flame. She doesn't move a muscle apart from her hand, as it keeps on tapping the table. The customers around us continue their conversations, paying us no attention. Not caring about what's happening right behind them as she turns to smoke.

  
Flash.

Bang.

  
Now, a demonic creature stands where Sybil sat just a moment ago. He's too massive to use these chairs, I imagine. It's the same demon I encountered in my previous dream.

_Ah, of course. It's just a dream. I forgot I used to dream like this nearly every night._

"Welcome back, my acolyte. I've been watching you closely, and I see you have many questions."

I exhale in frustration and roll my eyes, "Demon, I don't care. You and the rest of this isn't real. Just leave so Sybil can come back. I'd like to have a nice dream, before I inevitably have to wake up again." I clutch the pamplet once more, awaiting the demon's departure.

He laughs, almost in ridicule. As if what I said was a hilarious joke. "I'm afraid you don't quite understand how this works. I am **very** much real, even if this is just a dream." I raise my eyebrows at hearing that and snicker.

"Yes, of course! That makes sense, **clearly**!" I wave my hands in the air, as to underline how sarcastic I'm being. "I am **such** a fool. Now, please, could you get our order or send someone capable-"

Unamused by my behaviour, he stomps one of his feet at the ground. The entire building shatters around me as if it was made of paper. Darkness now surrounds us as we float in nothingness.

His entire face expresses outrage. "Listen carefully, demonheart, for I will **not** repeat this." The demon extends his wings as he begins drawing symbols with his hands. They're becoming visible to me, also. Written in a fiery flame, they serve as the only source of light around us.

"I am Lord Sorin. Among other things, I also have the power to invade your dreams whenever I wish to." The symbols between us merge into one another as our surroundings change. Shifting from a castle to a forest. Deep waters. The sky. A garden. My prison cell.  
"..Change them however I like. Never let you sleep peacefully again if that is my desire. So, do **not** disrespect me. You **will** regret it."

I panic at the realisation. He could prevent me from ever getting any sleep if he only wishes to? Force me to dream of that cell every night?  
  
 _He.. is truly here. The demon is real. I can feel it._

Whimpering out a response, I say respectfully, as to not anger him, "I-I'm sorry.. My.. Lord. I wasn't aware." My eyes shift from him to the walls of the cell we appear to be standing in. Being here again... It's too painful. My mind is all over the place. My limbs tremble. 

He scoffs. The scene around us changes back to the inn. "I am glad you understand the situation. Now, as I said before, I see you have questions. Your previous disrespect will not be tolerated, though, so I will only answer the first one you ask."

Deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale. The setting of Sybil's inn returns peace.

_What should I ask? I only have one question? Maybe he will answer more later, if he invades my dreams again. I need to make this count, though. Who knows when I get my next chance._

As done previously by Sybil, I too tap my fingers on the table, thinking. I thought of asking about Orchid's true intentions, but I **do** believe she only turned me for my own good. I would like to know more about who this demon is and what he wants from me.   
I need to stay calm. The last time I met him, I was not terrified at all. Maybe the fact that I was aware of my death stopped me from losing my mind. This time, though.. I have a future to lose.

Okay.. My question: "When we met first, you told me I'd be your acolyte. Can you please explain what exactly that means? Or, at least, what it is that you're expecting from me?"

He frowns wrathfully. "Two questions? Maybe you don't deserve **any** answer."

Oh Gods, I really asked two questions, didn't I? Fuck. Oh no. "I apologise, I only meant to elaborate on my question. But I did it with.. another question. Only the first one, then. About what being your acolyte means."

Lord Sorin, as he called himself before, seems amused by my panic. "Very well, then." His hands start drawing more symbols as he speaks. "An acolyte of mine is someone who has the potential of becoming the Inquisitor of Death. A Mors. I have mentioned this name before, as well."

Some of the symbols that hang in the air spring in different directions. Others almost resemble the shapes of weapons - swords, maces, hammers. The last symbol is endlessly expanding around us, passing through us both.

"..What that means for you is that the demon flesh, the one that turned you fully, bore the strain of the overlord of Xibalba. Or, as you mortals describe it, the pale hell. More specifically," he leans right in front of my face, giving me an amused look, ".. you consumed **my** flesh."

_What? Did he just say.. I ate **his** flesh? And that he's.. one of the demon overlords? The overlord to the pale hell? This.. is a bit much for me-_

"Which is exactly why I have such an interest in you and your future as my acolyte. I do not give my flesh just to anyone. But, we have to talk about that some other time." The expanded symbol shakes around us violently.  
  
"You've been given more information than you asked for, or even deserved. Let's see what you do with it. For now," the furthest point of the symbol sounds an explosion, destroying the building completely, slowly approaching us with its impending doom, "it seems it is time for you to wake up."

  
Flash.

Bang.

  
I awake.  
  



	6. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finishing her journey to the military camp, Bright needs to continue alone, as Rose has to return to Scarcewall.

\--------  
 **Journal entry #1  
** A demon lord spoke to me in a dream. Lord Sorin. The overlord of pale hell - Xibalba as he called it. According to him, I am to become his acolyte. An Inquisitor of Death - A Mors. He also said his interest in me is enhanced by the fact that I consumed his flesh. That can only mean Orchid somehow got her hands on it. 

Another thing he spoke of concerned the nature of demonhearts. He said the flesh I ate 'bore the strain of the overlord of pale hell'. His flesh. His hell. So, going off of that logic, flesh of different demons bears strains of different hells. So other demonhearts can be of different hells. Right?

And if I expand on that thought, it means that either Orchid really wanted me to be assigned to Lord Sorin, or she made some sort of a pact with him, or he was simply the only demon lord willing to give his flesh. The last option sounds highly unlikely. Lord Sorin made it clear that his flesh is not a common 'gift'.

We will soon reach the military camp. My hope is growing and the memories of suffering are slowly fading. Slowly.  
\--------

I close my journal and stuff it back into my bag. Writing all of this information down gave me a sense of perspective. Allowed me to see things I didn't previously realise. Honestly, I need to do this more often. 

"Thank you so much for the feather and ink, Rose," I say as I hand her the borrowed vial back. She rolls her eyes playfully and says, "No problem. And keep them. I have more," she says, revealing an arsenal of writing supplies in her pockets. "Always got to have a spare. Imagine not having a way to write letters as an ambassador. What an embarrassment that would be!" Rose laughs.

Looking at the vial in my hands and then back at Rose, I thank her and stuff it into the bag, next to my journal, the poison vial and two dozens of arrows. She's treating me with such kindness. I have not witnessed it anywhere in those three months in prison.

_I can't believe it. Three months. It's still a long time, but.. it felt like an eternity._

The cart rocks harder as the terrain becomes more difficult to ride on. We must be getting close. Over time, the forest turned from exhibiting flourishing life to a more desolate, abandoned state.

"So... How was the execution?" Rose breaks the silence. And what a question to do that with. She doesn't look like she's joking, either. Her expression is quite serious. My lips part in surprise, my eyebrows fly all the way to my hairline.

"Uhh... Horrible? I don't know what to say, really. It wasn't the best day of my life, if that's what you wanted to know," still unsure whether she's just messing with me or not.

Her mouth moves to a side as she purses her lips, "Apparently your favourite knight had to do it himself. What an honour, right? I suppose he got back at you for what happened the day before."

This whole conversation is offputting. I throw a concerned look in the direction of the carrier. What if he hears any of this? I doubt knowing he's driving a demon girl around would fill him with happiness.

Rose grins, "Don't worry, he's deaf."

I mimic the 'Oh' sound with my lips and decide it does no harm to talk about what happened. Especially since Rose has been so nice to me.

"Well, he **did** apologise and also said he never meant for any of it to happen. And I actually believed him. But I'm certain he was just terrified of having to kill me. He sure had no problem returning to his previous behaviour when he visited me."

Rose's eyebrows spring up, perplexed. "He actually came to visit you? My Gods. What a cunt."

I laugh, maybe a bit harder than I expected. "I was glad to see him at first. I've only had Bold keeping me company before, and.. well we both know how that ended." I clear my throat and swallow. "Anyway, he only came in to tell me he 'cannot be associated with a demon like me' and that he 'broke off our engagement'. So.. that **really** helped me out of my desperation."

Silence.

Rose looks at me like she's just seen ghost. Astounded, dumbfounded. She closes her eyes, as if to process what I just told her, before opening them shortly. "He said **that**? I might just have to go and punch him, too. No wonder you did." Her head shakes from side to side, still completely astonished. She exhales violently.  
"The thing is, nobody apart from Lord Second and a few important officers in Feline know about your.. condition. His fucking comment about 'not wanting to be associated with a demon' is a complete lie. I guess he never expected you to leave prison and figure it out. Fucker."

Oh. Well. That makes things worse. I wasn't sure that was even possible. Well then. I should have expected another betrayal, especially from him. I bite my lips again, anxiously. _You've gone through enough stress. Don't let this get to you. Breathe._

"I.. see. Well.. that is unfortunate. Unfortunate, but not unexpected." I try to respond with the utmost restraint over my emotions.

"And what that rat did when you were jailed! I wasn't aware he visited you, as if to justify any of it by seeing you imprisoned. What a fucking... Agh!" Rose is reacting very passionately, she even hits one of the wooden walls of the cart. _Uh..._ This entire thing seems to bother her much more than it bothers me.

I clear my throat again, "Rose, are you.. alright?" I reach out to her, trying to get a hold of her arm. When she sees my reaction, she exhales through her nose and just like that, she's completely calm. _Gods. That is.. unsettling. How does she even do that?_

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. There are some things you don't know, yet, but I won't spoil the surprise. I know your reaction will be appropriate." A mischievous grin. It disappears when Rose's attention falls outside of the cart. "Oh! We're here! Finally," she yells excitedly. I grab my bag and pull the bow over my head again before getting off, letting my feet reach the ground.

"Okay. Listen to me, Bright." She pulls me close to her, standing face to face with me. "Orders call for my immediate report of the situation to Lord Mace. Meaning I won't enter the camp with you. This is where we part ways."

I panic, my brows furrow as my lips twist corners down. _No, no. I.. don't know anyone here. Her presence offers so much comfort._

"Aw, you're sad to see me go?" Rose asks as she gently pats my hair, only for a second.

"Of course I am! I.." A sigh leaves my mouth as my gaze sinks to the ground. "You're the first person who's treated me like a human. And.. the thought of entering the camp alone is slightly mortifying, to be perfectly honest."

Rose lifts my head back up, so our eyes can meet. She's got that look of genuine worry on her face again. Her eyes move to the side, suddenly she lifts her leg up and pulls a dagger out, the one she stabbed me with earlier.

She forces its handle into my hand. "Take it. It's a good dagger. There's a tiny compartment on the inside of your right boot, stick it in there. It.. might come in handy."

Looking down at the dagger, I see how exquisite it is. Very expensive and masterfully crafted. "I.. thank you, Rose. For eve-" She interrupts me.

"Bright, promise me you won't let anyone walk over you. Promise me you will stand your ground. Use the fact that you're a fucking demonheart to boost your confidence." Lifting her gaze towards the camp, she frowns before continuing.  
"As cute as your innocence is, it will get you killed in the camp. And since you're only going to come back from that with scars, those male cunts will realise there are worse things they can do to you. You're likely going to be the only woman there, as well."

Not wanting to interrupt her as she goes on, I remember what I promised to Sybil. And to Orchid, also. Technically, I failed them both. Both of those promises were broken moments after I gave them. So, my track record isn't exactly the best.

Rose continues with conviction in her voice and expression, "Promise me you won't let anyone fuck with your head. Or otherwise. Be a bitch. For once."

I wish it were that easy. The only time I actually managed to 'be a bitch' was with Mark. And that was only after he provoked me. Repeatedly.

She shakes me, visibly concerned. "Please, Bright. Promise me. I only wish to not see you suffer needlessly. And, even if you can't bring yourself to tell everybody to fuck off, I'll be satisfied if I hear you used some, as you put it, 'vulgar language'." Finally, her expression is disrupted by a smile.

"Well.. I'll try. I promise."

And here I go again. Another promise. But.. this one seems fairly simple. At least, the way Rose put it.

She grins, satisfied with my answer. "Good! Well, don't waste any more time with me." Rose points up-hill towards the camp. "Go that way and ask someone for the commander. They were told you're coming. The commander will also initiate your training!"

I gaze in the direction of the camp. Barricades surround it all over the edges. Fear strikes my heart, realising I have to go in alone. I hope some Feline soldiers are stationed there. At least, ones that didn't witness my execution. Maybe I'll know some people?

Sounds of impact come from behind me. I turn around only to see Rose back in the cart, tapping the shoulder of the carrier. The carriage begins moving. She sees me and says, "Time for me to leave. Just remember what I said, okay?" Rose waves me goodbye and, before her voice becomes too quiet, she yells, "And kick their butts!" before the cart disappears behind trees.

She's gone. It's.. been so long since I was left alone last. Not counting the abandonment of imprisonment, that's different. Being here, standing alone on the road, knowing where I have to go.. It fills me with a petrifying level of dread. One of the guards is looking at me suspiciously from behind the barricade. He saw me arrive with Rose, might as well use the rest of her influence and get him to take me to the commander.

Let's.. get this over with. There is no choice.

As I approach the barricade, somebody calls out to me from behind a tent. "Wait.. Bright?! What the hell are you doing here!" Me and the guard both look towards the direction the voice came from. Another guard emerges. Or, not a guard, a soldier. I know him.

"Wha- Jasper? You.. are stationed here?" He runs over to me to give me a hug. Jasper and I have been friends for as long as Mark and I have known each other. We didn't really speak a whole lot after the engagement, but I know Jasper is kind and caring.

"Yes, I am. I volunteered to fight the beasts and protect this outpost. More importantly, why are **you** here? Last I heard you were jailed for.. Orchid's murder?" I look at him uncertainly, unsure of what to say exactly. He continues shortly.   
"A lot of rumours are floating around. Some say you were executed, others say you were imprisoned. Some say you transformed into a demon and burned a few peasants alive. Clearly, that one is very untrue. Nobody knows what to think." Jasper must not have been present at the execution. Good.

"I.. was jailed. And don't ask, of course I didn't kill Orchid." An uncomfortable pause. "Anyway, Lord Second granted me a pardon to fight the forest witch. I'm.. actually supposed to meet the commander and speak to him about my training. Could you point me to him?"

Jasper eyes me, worried, before frowning in the direction of the camp. "You.. don't know, do you?"

 _Huh?_ I give him a suspenseful look. "What do you mean, Jasper? Know what?"

"The.. commander. It's Mark. Or, Sir Mark, as he prefers being called." His eyes glare at the ground between us. "I'm.. really sorry. And, there is another thing." He shuts his eyes and prepares for whatever he wants to say. Jasper looks incredibly uncomfortable.   
"Yes, Jasper, what is-" He cuts me off. "Bright.. Mark is engaged to Flora." Jasper reaches for my hand and holds it in his.

_.. I.. didn't see this coming. Just, stay calm, Bright. Remember what Rose said. Don't let anything get to you. 'Be a bitch'. .. I sure **do** want to curse someone out right about now._

I start laughing lightly under my breath, just at the thought of me cursing in front of someone, only for the purpose of using vulgar language.

"You're.. taking this much better than I had anticipated." Jasper's voice is now calmer. He lets go of my hand, seeing I needn't his consolation.

_Okay, here goes... I'm nervous! Hopefully, Jasper will excuse my language._

"Of course. I'm not going to bother concerning myself with that.. fucking traitor and that whore." Jasper's eyes fly open as he takes a step back. Looking around a few times, maybe to see if anybody else heard me, he clears his throat.

"I-I see.. Well, better not waste time. If you go down this path," he points to a worn walkway passing through the middle of the camp, "..you should soon notice a big tent with a bronzed banner hanging on the side. Mark should be inside."

"Perfect! Thank you so much, Jasper. I hope we talk more once I have the time." I smile at him warmly. For a second, I consider giving him a curtsy, but.. I believe that's the kind of thing Rose told me specifically **not** to do.

"O-of course. Good luck, Bright." I hear him respond as I make my way down the path, not wasting any more time on chatting.   
  


I am interested in the training Rose talked about. Becoming stronger. Putting a stop to the witch threatening innocent civilians. And, at the same time, winning my freedom back. I hope I'm good enough to do well.

Just like she said, I don't see any women here. Only men. Old, young, wide, tall, short. And they're all eyeing me as I pass through the camp. Their perverted, menacing sneers send a gut-wrenching feeling through my entire body.

 _Don't let it get to you. Don't. Everything is going to be okay. Don't show fear. Keep walking. Don't let them see your fright._ I tense my stomach as hard as I possibly can and clutch my trembling hands into fists. Additionally, I also need to forcefully press my jaws together. Can't leave anything to chance.

There it is. Well, would you look at that. A big, decorated tent with a bronzed banner hanging on the side. I'm sure Mark loves having all this power. All this attention. All this responsibility. Pulling the cloth serving as a cover of the enterance aside, I spot Mark. His back is turned to me as he rummages through some scrolls on his desk. I breathe in deeply and try to relax.

" **Sir** , they said I should come see you about my training." His body shakes entirely, I may have caught him off-guard. Mark finally turns around and faces me with his emotionless expression. His hand still fucking resting on his sword. Seeing his habits unchanged pisses me off. 

Usually, I enjoy being polite. With Mark, though.. He's tried me so many times in the past, I've completely lost all control around him. And with my new-found resolution of fulfilling my new promise, it might get even worse.

"Bright. Of course. I was told you would arrive today. I seem to have.. lost track of time."

_Fucking traitorous bastard._

"So it would seem." I squint for a moment. _Here I go._ "Can we just.. get on with it? I don't want to delay you from fucking your new betrothed."

 _Oh shit, I really said it. Okay, just keep calm. Keep calm.  
  
_ Mark looks completely stunned. His eyes spring open the same way Jasper's did. If this situation wasn't so unfortunate, I would honestly laugh, just like Rose would if she were to see me right now.

He shakes his head, "I see your time in prison left its stain on you. Disappointing."

I respond with a cheeky smirk, "I wasn't looking for your approval, anyway. Just tell me what to do and where to go." Mark isn't amused by my behaviour. I suppose he's interpreting it as a show of disrespect. Which only makes it **that** much more rewarding.

"You already know you are to accompany a group of chosen soldiers on a mission, correct? A mission to put a stop to these torturous attacks?" His brows are raised, almost as if he's anticipating some crude remark from me. I wonder if he can see through my behaviour, recognise its falsity. If **he** can't, the person that knows me here the best, I think I might get away with it.

I only nod slightly to his question. Mark purses his lips and grins for only a moment. "Good. You are to start training as quickly as possible. Sir Brash and Sir Jarlan will take care of that."

_Who and who? More knights? I hope they haven't started knighting everyone in Feline while I was gone._

"And where might I find those good Sirs? In more needlessly large tents? But, I suppose knights **do** need all this space for themselves. Where else would they keep all that bubbling ego?"

Mark is outraged, hearing what I just said to him. He steps closer to me, but I'm not giving him the pleasure of keeping our conflict hidden. If he wants to do anything, he needs to be prepared to let everybody see. Avoiding his grasp, I push myself through the cloth 'door'.  
Now we are both outside. He still grabs me by my arm. The one Rose had stabbed me in earlier. With an angry look, I stare right into his eyes.

"Find. The. Knights. When you do, return with them to me. They know you're coming. Ask around for all I care. Just get out of my fucking sight."

I pretend astonishment and gasp, "My word! That is not a way for a knight to speak! I see your time spent with **actual** soldiers left its stain on you." Infuriated, he shoves me away and hides back inside the tent.

Gods. That was sort of.. terrifying. But in an unexpectedly gratifying way. So much satisfaction. A huge weight dropped from my shoulders.

 _Okay, he said to find Sirs.. Brash and Jarlan? Yarlan? I'm not sure which it was. All the adrenaline might have been too much for me._ I should ask around. I can't see Jasper anymore, and there is no way in any hells I am approaching the other soldiers. But, then again,..

I can see an older man sitting alone around a campfire. He looks harmless enough, maybe he could tell me where there are? Making my decision final, I approach him.

"Uh, hello, sir. I'm sorry, could you please tell me where to find Sirs Brash and.. Yarlan? Jarlan?" I smile innocently. _Fuck, shouldn't have done that. But.. he looks nice enough. Maybe it's not such a problem?_

"Don't worry, child. I will not harm you. You can relax." The man bows his head and offers me a cup of soup. Gods, what I wouldn't give for a hot meal right now. But I do have to go and meet the two men.

"Thank you, but I must refuse. The knights are apparently expecting me and I wish not to delay any further. But.. I'd love to come by afterwards! You seem much nicer than the others." I frown slightly, but still keep my smile on.

"Gratitude. And I understand, child. If you wish to meet those two 'knights' Brash and **Jarlan** , head east. I saw them leave the camp a few minutes ago." His face turns sour, almost worried. "Be careful. Try not to anger them. They're more beasts than men."

 _Huh? What does that mean? As in.. physically?_ My head leans slightly to the side, uncertain of the warning's meaning. "I'll.. try? Thank you for your help. Enjoy your meal!" I bow my head the same way he did and head to the east of the camp.

More men. They keep pouring out of their tents. I assume my arrival must have stirred a lot of emotions and interest. Just, keep calm, Bright. Composed. Determined. Keep your mind on what's important.  
Don't lose your head... Again.  
  



	7. Of Trust and Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright enters the forest, looking for two knights to begin her training. Unaware of their identity, she finds out it's the two Scarcewall knights, Brash and Jarlan. An incident occurs after this realisation.

"...But what is trust, anyway? A set of principles? Morals? Ones we expect others to follow unconditionally? If they decide not to, what does that say about them? More importantly, what does that say about us? Survival of the fittest - if you are not strong enough, someone else will take your place. And trust is as much a weakness as it can be a strength. The inevitability of betrayal is always present."

***

Making it all the way through the camp, I reach the eastern exit. Nobody is trying to stop me at all. What if I just run off and never come back? Not that I would. I intend to give the mission my all. The witch's insanity needs to be stopped. And the fact that I will be rewarded for it with my life is just an added bonus.

The other question asked by Lord Sorin comes to mind. "What are you willing to do to reach your goal?"

If by 'goal' I could consider me wanting to gain back my freedom, then.. what am I **not** willing to do? I will not go back to that cell. Death would be more welcoming than that kind of suffering. And since Bold is - hopefully - dead now, there would be nobody to talk to me. _Great, just what I needed. Feeling grateful for Bold's treatment._

But, would I be willing to kill somebody on the way to reaching my goal? Poisoning that wine was necessary. I know it was the right thing to do. It was just. But what if I'm put in a situation where someone not deserving of it needs to die? 

_..I see getting a straight answer for this question will not be an easy task. Especially since some answers seems to be contradicted by my other answer. Don't cause needless suffering. Always try to find the best option._

The forest is getting thicker the further I distance myself from the camp. I shouldn't venture this far out, but I only need to find the two men and bring them back to Mark. I wonder what he even wants with them? He could have told them whatever he's going to say before I arrived. Perhaps he cannot wait to let me see the display of his 'power' over others.

A cry. 

It's coming from somewhere deeper in the forest.

My heart starts racing. Someone needs help.

I pull the light bow I picked up back at the armory over my head, and attempt to nock an arrow on it. First try, the string snaps back at my fingers. Second try, the arrow falls down completely. Third try, I seem to have figured it out.

With a readied weapon, I'm closing in to the cries, watching nervously for any sign of worgs, wolfs or any other beasts. My entire body is shaking with fear. I didn't expect to face conflict this early on. No training. Just released from prison. Still weak and tired. And now, also absolutely fucking beside myself with panic.

I'm nearing whoever is yelling out. They should be right past these rocks. But.. more voices come out from behind them. Wary, I try to listen carefully as I approach.

"...it off! Let us see yer tits!" one male voice yells.

"Please! Just let me leave! I won't tell anyone, I promise!" the female voice I heard previously responds. She sounds frightened for her life.

"Don't you have **any** manners? Whores need to be paid first!" another male voice continues. Wicked laughter of the two men engulfs the entire forest. My whole body shakes hearing it. I feel like running away, but.. I can't. I can't leave her in that situation. Nobody deserves to suffer like this.

I breathe in.

I breathe out.

Holding the bow and arrow firmly, I walk further along the rocks. Closer to them. Mind racing like mad. Hands trembling. I might just freeze in terror if I don't keep it together. The voices become more audible as I carefully close the distance.

"But maybe she will do it of her own free will! How about you obey my friend, and that little white fawn of yours doesn't get hurt?" the second voice threatens.

"..Snowflake? No! Please!" the female voice pleads.

"Ah, she even gave her dinner a name! That's pretty fucked up. But we could take it off your hands! After all, it's almost dinner time," once more, the second voice threatens.

"Har har har! Ye're so devious, Brashy!" the first voice rejoins in laughter. 

_Wait, what did he just say? 'Brashy'? I've heard that before somewhere.._

I take the final step. Emerge from behind the wall of rocks.

See exactly what is going on.

_No.._

  
It hits. The reality of the situation unfolding in front of me. The reality of knowing every single person involved. My body freezes still. It's the knights of Scarcewall and Flora. The world feels incredibly small and dark. The past seems to have a tight hold on me.

"Should we make her watch as we kill it?" the tall knight asks the other one. His back is turned to me, and the other two are busy with each other. Nobody noticed my presence yet.

"Please! I beg you! Don't do anything to Snowflake!" Flora's tears make it hard for her to speak.

"Wench don't want ta save 'er little fawn? Ain't that tha saddest thing ye've ever heard, Brash?" the short knight laughs again as he lunges for a firm hold on Flora's armor. She's not letting him get to it.

The tall knight, supposedly called Brash, responds: "You had your choice, whore. Snowflake on a stick, coming up!" Now he's turning around, and before I know it, our eyes lock.

Suddenly, I recall a dream I had. Almost seems a lifetime ago. He killed me in it, after furiously groping and handling my body. A disgusting nightmare. It's only making this situation that much worse. 

Brash grins when he sees me. "Oh, would you look at this," a sharp feeling of horror overwhelms me, "who let **this** kitty out of the bag?" his daunting voice asks.

The short knight, supposedly Jarlan, as Mark mentioned, turns around to see what's going on. "What? Is that another pair o' tits?" He turns his attention back to Flora right after.

Brash is now looking me up and down with his normal and black eye. With all those scars. With a perverted, sleazy sneer. One I've seen him wear before, when he caught up to me in that street. "Not just **any** pair of tits." He licks his teeth. "This is my little whore."

  
My whole body becomes petrified. I can barely create a single thought. Only fear comes to mind.

Something takes over me for a moment. My arms lift up with the readied weapon as I move to aim my arrow at Brash. Without much effort, he grabs the bow from my hands, throws it at the ground and snickers. "I don't think so, kitten." He's too close. And now, I am disarmed.

I begin taking a few steps backwards, forgetting there is a wall of rocks right behind me. My head hits it quite hard. Stinging pain overpowers my fear. Only now do I notice my mouth has been open from shock the whole time. I tense my stomach again and attempt to regain some of that previous, false composure. Swallowing the huge lump in my throat, I look towards Flora and Jarlan.

"Let her go." The first words I have the courage to say. Deep breaths. _If I lose my mind here, how can I expect myself to fight anyone? As fucking terrified as I am, I need to stay strong._

Both of the knights look at me amused. Brash studies my face as he says, "Why do **you** care? We've heard she likes fucking knights."

_..Who cares about that. This isn't about Flora, or Mark, or even me. This is about what's right. And whatever they're doing is **not**._

"It's.. not.." My voice starts shaking. No more words come out.

His eyes narrow as he continues, "Hmm, maybe you shouldn't do it in front of the kitten, as to not frighten her. She might not let me fuck her later if she's too scared."

"Har har! Ye are yer obsession with girls **lettin'** ye fuck 'em!" Jarlan laughs in response.

I need to remain calm. Don't let any of this get to you. Stay strong. Just like Rose would. Just like Orchid would. Just like Sybil-

_Sybil._

A sudden realisation.

These two.

These two are responsible for the murder of Sybil's sister.

Jarlan killed her as Brash made Sybil watch.

A newfound fury overwhelms me. My emotions are all over the place, but, for now, I know what needs to be done. Justice needs to be executed. 

_Life for life._   
_Pain for pain._   
_Death for death._

Since he's in my way, and knowing I can't overpower Brash, I need to somehow make him move. Distract him, so I can run towards Jarlan. If he turns his body away from me, he won't be able to catch me. If I'm good at anything, it's being fast. Surprisingly fast.

_Okay, deep breaths, think about this. His attention is fully invested in me. Watching me. He won't expect me to do anything. Jarlan and Flora won't even see me coming._

Think, think, think. Hopefully Orchid's cunningness left some marks on me.

I look into Brash's eyes deeply, almost longingly, before swiftly turning my gaze to my left, in a direction somewhere behind him. Making sure I look as bewildered as possible, I spring my eyes open and bring my hand to cover my mouth. I let out a terrified gasp before finally saying, "Agh! No, Snowflake..!"

With a certain menace and hunger in his eyes, he readily turns his entire body around to see where exactly the fawn is. He even reaches for his sword, preparing to slay it. Of course, the fawn is not there. But he doesn't know that, yet.

It worked. It actually worked. _What an idiot._

Not wasting even a second of the temporary opportunity, I silently put my bag from my shoulder on the ground, as to not slow me down. I lunge in the direction of Jarlan and Flora. He's holding her against a tree, his back turned to me. Only Flora can see me, but she's smart enough not to say anything. 

An almost inaudible "You fucking..." comes from behind me, but before Brash can even finish, I'm already at Jarlan's throat. Pressing Rose's dagger against it. I came at him so fast, I actually knocked him over on the ground.

Every single person here is completely shocked by the sudden turn of events. Jarlan looks astonished, but quickly turns that into anger. I can see he wants to say something, but I don't give him the chance. "Flora, fucking run already," I bark out before she realises she's free to go. And there she goes, running for her life. She's taking the safer route, avoiding Brash.

"What the **fuck** are you doing?" Brash seems to be concentrated on me, anyway. "You should have said something if you wanted to fuck Jarlan in her place!" Brash follows with a laugh. He doesn't know about the dagger. He can't see it. From where he's standing, it must look like I'm just pinning Jarlan down on the ground.

"Girlie, ye better get off me before I get **real** mad," Jarlan says, outraged. But.. I think if he were truly infuriated, he could knock me off of him, at least with considerable effort.

_What.. do I even do? Am I truly willing to kill him? Am I really ready to watch as I murder him? Even if for Sybil, I.. My conscience needs to be reassured. It needs to see for itself._

I recall she said her sister stabbed the perpetrator. In the side. Deeply, with her dagger. He should have a scar, then. He has to have it. A wound like that heals slowly and leaves permanently scarred tissue.

Reaching for his shirt, I pull it out of his pants, revealing his chest. "By tha Gods. Girlie, what tha fuck is wrong wit' ye? Ye're one fucked up cat gall, ye know?" I sense him relax, his anger turns to amusement as he sees what I'm doing. Whatever keeps him from stabbing me, I guess.

"Oh for fuck's sake. Another whore, huh?" Brash's voice turns sour, he sounds aggravated.

I look around Jarlan's stomach, but.. There is no scar. Anywhere. Not on either side. It could not have possibly healed, even if it happened five, ten, twenty years ago. A scar would **still** remain.

Baffled, I blurt out, "Where.. where is your scar? You're supposed to have a scar. Where is it?!"

Jarlan looks at me confused, his amusement disappears as he realises my actions weren't ones of desire. "..The fuck are ye talkin' about, lass? What fuckin' scar?"

_I... can't believe it. I was ready to kill him. I almost killed someone not responsible. Sybil.. must have mistaken him for someone. She must have._

My determination fades as I realise what I've done in the last few minutes. Hyperventilating, I spring away from Jarlan, slowly getting back up. But.. Something hits me at the back of my head. I fall down to the ground, feeling myself fading.

"What took ye so lo-" is the last thing I hear before I lose consciousness.

***

A dull pain spreads through my body. "Wake the fuck up," a daunting voice says harshly.

I slowly open my eyes. I'm lying on the ground, still in the forest. Most likely the same spot where I lost my consciousness. I try to move, but I notice my hands and legs are tied. I struggle, attempting to free myself.

"Not gonna happen." It's Brash. Appearing from behind me, he walks to my side and sits down on the ground next to me. I can't see Jarlan anywhere. Flora, either. It must be just us.

I scoff defeatedly, realising I cannot escape. "I didn't expect to go back to prison so soon. Especially over-" Brash interrupts me, "Yeah, what the fuck was that supposed to be? I didn't know you were batshit fucking crazy!" He shakes his head, staring me down. His sleazy sneer and smirks are nowhere to be seen.

"I thought you might just be an ordinary whore, but you're a fucking **insane** whore at that. Why the **fuck** did you try to kill Jarlan? And while we're at that, how the **fuck** did you get Rose's dagger?!"

"I'm not a whore! I would never touch that bastard if it weren't necess-" Brash interrupts me again, more viciously this time. "Fucking slut! Answer what I asked before I lock you in the fucking cell myself!"

_.. This doesn't look good for me. I mean, the choice is removed from my hands. Either I talk or I go to prison for sure. I.. can't let that happen._

I close my eyes and exhale before answering. "My friend.. Jarlan killed her sister, or so I thought. I decided to avenge her, but.. I had to look for his scar first. I couldn't find it, and he had no clue what I was talking about. And, as for the dagger - Rose gave it to me."

He grins furiously and continues, now sarcastically, "Yeah for **sure** she did. Why wouldn't she give her precious dagger to some convict she only met today? Makes sense," he spits on the ground next to me. "Fucking thief."

"Do I look like I could steal anything from Rose?"

"..Fair enough, bitch. What was that shit about murdering some cunt's whore sister?" Everything he says is full of vulgar language. As if it adds anything to the sentence. 

_By Gods, can he not speak like a normal human? Or at least as close as a beast like him can get?_

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You were there, also... Apparently. I'm not sure what the truth is anymore." I shift my gaze all around the place, trying to avoid his eyes.

"Oh, nice! You gonna try and kill me, too, huh? Might as well finish you off right here myself."

"No, you.. Ugh. Just, please,.." I sigh as I look back at him. "Tell me, do you know anyone named Sybil? She.. ran a brothel in Scarcewall some time ago. It was her sister that was murdered."  
  


Silence.

  
A violent frown appears on his face. "How the fuck do **you** know **her**? Did you fuck her or any of her sluts? Are you a fucking cunt-licking whore?"

 _ **GODS!** I've never heard this kind of language used around me. I.. don't know how to react to that._ For reasons unknown to me, I start laughing, hearing what he said. The words just sound so incredibly inappropriate, and put together they're honestly hilarious to me. 

Brash only looks at me dumbfounded, or maybe unsettled. "You're one fucking insane woman, you know that?"

Clearing my throat, I continue, "Sorry about- I mean.. Nevermind that. Either way. I didn't do anything with Sybil. I met her in Feline, and after she saw you at the knighting, she said you two killed her sister." Just mentioning this returns my mood to an all-time low. "..Or, rather, Jarlan killed her as you held Sybil back."

Another silence.

He continues staring at me for a while. Maybe a few minutes. Examining me, considering my words. "You're just.. Fucking hells-" Brash shakes his head as he bends over me, cutting the rope tying my legs and arms. I rub my wrists on the previously tightly tied spots, looking at him inquisitively. _Why did he..?_

"That insane whore killed the girl herself. Me and Jarlan entered the brothel looking for some cunt that night, and we found her over the girl's body, still stabbing the shit out of her. Fucking blood everywhere. Deranged bitch," his voice turns angrier the more he elaborates.

_..What? No.. No, no, no._

"I grabbed her and pulled her from the girl while Jarlan looked at the damage done. She's a complete psycho, a fucking mental case. Last I heard she managed to escape from prison. I don't fucking know how, I didn't care." Brash is once more standing tall next to me, I'm shaking on the ground, my legs pulled to my chest.

 _No.. It cannot be true._ My legs tremble as my eyes fill with tears. They quickly pour down my face. _She.. couldn't have possibly made it all up. Maybe he.. confused her with someone._

Brash taps one of his armored boots on the ground, agitated. He exhales angrily. "You might be a cunning whore, but a fucking dumb one also if you trusted her," he says, shaking his head.

Another betrayal added to the pile. They just never stop, do they? How can I ever trust anyone again after this? Orchid's words ring in my head: _"Bright, how can you know who to really trust if you never give anybody a chance?"_ Well, I've given **everyone** a chance, and almost all of them betrayed me in return.

My tears do not end. I start rubbing my palm with the other hand's thumb, as if to clean it. Clean it completely. There are no stains on it, though. Only the memory of Sybil's hand. I need it gone.

Something falls down into my palm. A tiny piece of white cloth. "..Wipe the tears. People might get the wrong idea if we enter the camp together and you're crying your ass off," Brash says to me. I can see a sleazy smile dominate his face again. It's.. somehow reassuring, knowing he's back to that attitude. It's preferable than the look of fury he gave me earlier.

I stagger and ask him uncertainly, "But.. Aren't you going to send me back to prison? For.. what I tried to do?" Bringing the cloth to my face, I wipe the tears, slowly calming down.

Brash raises one of his brows, curious. "Why the fuck would I do that? I can't train you there, only watch as the guard take turns fucking you in your cell," he finishes with a monsterous laugh, taking a few steps towards the camp's direction.

_He's going to be like this all the time, huh? Gods. Now that I think about it, it might be funny to watch Mark's reaction. He did request - no, he **ordered** me to bring the knights back to him. And I would just **hate** to see him disappointed. Hopefully, one will be enough._

"Let's go already. I'm sure that ex-cunt of yours must be pissing himself. Imagining I dragged you off somewhere. All alone together. And what a thought **that** would be," he licks his teeth again, examining my body with a perverted look in his eyes. _Okay, maybe it's not that much better than him being infuriated. That look is deeply distressing._

"Uh, can we please just go..?" I smile harmlessly, probably with a light, wide-eyed look.

He scoffs, "I wonder what the fuck he even wants to say to me. Maybe he's going to try and teach me how to fuck you properly!" Another deep laugh.

".. I.. think he only means to talk about the mission and my training... Sir."

His eyebrows lift up, he most definitely didn't anticipate to be called that. But I feel uncomfortable calling him by his name. And.. it's just too informal. I don't know him well enough. It will take me a while to adjust to the military camp setting, clearly.

Another scoff. "I wonder, did you ever spread your legs for him? You are an innocent kitten, but you **were** engaged. How hard did he fuck you, huh?"  
  


Wham.

  
Before I even realise it, it already happened. Once more, my right hand seems to have found someone's face. This time not Mark's but Brash's. _Oh fuck.. What have I done now._

Surprisingly, he didn't even try to move away. Either he didn't expect it - which I definitely didn't - or he let me slap him. I'm glad it was only a slap. I might not have survived this encounter if I punched him instead.

"Hitting knights in the face gets you off?" With an amused look, he says, "Whatever. I'll know from the way he looks at you."

I frown, "You won't know anything," crossing my arms on my chest.

Narrowing his eyes, he responds with, "We'll see about that. Come," walking off in the direction of the camp.

I follow him, keeping a short distance between us. Upon reaching the rock next to which I put my bag down, I pick it up again. It seems nobody rummaged through it. Thank the Gods. Together with the bag, I pull the bow over my head again.

Brash quickly turns around. "And take this. Rose would kill you if she found out you lost it." The dagger. He's handing it back to me.

I look into his eyes in surprise. Taking the dagger from him, I crouch to hide it back in my right boot's special compartment.

"Thank you.. for trusting me with it," I say as I get back up from the crouch.

"It doesn't matter - I know what to expect from you, now. And I know where you're hiding it." A malicious smirk. He turns back around and leads me to the camp.

_Well, what a way to meet my new 'instructor'._


	8. Keep Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright and Brash go over to Mark's tent, after the events of their first real meeting.

Me and Brash are almost at the camp. I can see the barricades clearly. He hasn't said anything the whole time since we left the rocky area. I assume he has no interest in speaking with me, anyway. Looking dead ahead, I begin noticing a few dead bodies right outside of the camp. They were definitely not there before.

Luckily, the bodies aren't of our soldiers. Rather, they look like twisted, cursed humans. Bodies covered completely in fur, giant claw-like hands, and most importantly, their heads resemble wolfs to a fault.  
"What.. what are those things?" I ask Brash with a trembling voice. As he loves to do, he scoffs at my question before answering, "Worgs. Get used to seeing them, there will be more."

These are worgs? I thought they would appear much more monsterous. Instead, they are rather human-like. At least in shape. Mostly. We approach them, walking towards their demise. I count three dead worgs, but that is only on this side of the camp. There may be more elsewhere.

  
...Something is wrong. My chest is starting to heat up a little. Around the place where my amulet presses on-

_**"** Hello again, darling."_

I stop and.. "WHOA! Fuck!" I scream out, scared senseless by the unexpected voice.

Brash turns around instantly, looking around me, looking for hostility, enemies, danger. Finding nothing, he stares at me suspiciously. "The fuck was that about? ..You okay? What happened?"

A chuckle sounds through my head. _**"** Ah, I told you not to respond outloud."_

_Perfect. The voice is back. Just.. just what I needed._

"I.. I-I just got scared.. by.."  
 _  
Don't say you got scared by a foreign voice in your head. Don't. Do. It. No. Don't even think about it.  
  
_ "..Uh... All these.. dead bodies! It's.. Really scary stuff."

Brash is staring at me with a barely open mouth, his eyes move from mine to the worg bodies, and right back to mine. I'm not sure he's buying what I'm saying. What a stupid lie, too. I've worked with plenty of dead bodies while with Orchid. I'm certain he must know that. But it seems he doesn't care enough to investigate. Shaking his head, he turns around and walks again.

_  
**"** Good job! You managed to fool a completely ignorant brute. You must feel quite proud of yourself."_

_Okay, if you're going to be a dick, at least do it in someone else's head. I don't fancy having another voice in there. Mine is one too many, already._

_**"** My dear, you don't understand anything about this connection, do you?" _ The voice sounds almost disappointed.

_It's pretty clear that I'm losing my mind, arguing with myself. I don't care why, I just want to have some peace for once._

Silence.

_**"** As much as I'd love to help you, you are stuck with me, I'm afraid."_

I sigh defeatedly. _Amazing. So what, are we like mind-siblings now? What do we talk about? Boys? Horses? What's your poison?_

The voice laughs deeply. _**"** Darling. I am not you."_

_Ah, perfect! Even better! Why couldn't you have come around when I was jailed? I would have appreciated the company there, actually. Even if it meant I was going insane. Which **clearly** I did, anyway._

_**"**..Alright, let me just explain what's happening. This episode you're having is not as amusing as it was a moment ago."_

_Why not kill some time? Let's do it, mind-buddy!_

An annoyed sigh rings in my head. **"** _Since you won't understand if I elaborate on the details, simply put - we're comunicating through the amulet you're wearing. I am also wearing one."_

_How do you-_

_**"** Don't interrupt, please. When we speak, the amulet gets warmer. That jail of yours was magically protected, meaning I could not reach you, meaning it was most likely freezing. Ring any bells? Was my explanation plain enough for you?"_

_..Okay, then. I think I.. understand the part about the amulet now. So.. that means you're real? And this amulet is.. purely a means of comunication? Can I comunicate with anyone like this, then?_

A scoff. _**"** No. Only me. After all, only two of these amulets exist."_

_Where did you get-_

_**"** Not now, dear. We will speak later. The brute requires your attention, again."_

_Wha-  
  
_

"Hey! You ready?" Brash's voice wakes me from the semi-unconsciousness I was just in. I look around, manic in breathing. Noticing we're standing in front of Mark's big tent, I tense up.

"The fuck is happening to you?" He's eyeing me, perhaps unsure what to expect. I feel like fainting. From one stress right into another. Honestly, will I ever get to rest in peace? I couldn't even die properly.

I force a smile, "I-I.. I'm just.. stressed. Mark. Flora. Today has been too long. I've only left prison in the morning, and the day still never seems to end." Still hyperventilating, I try to breathe deeply to relax. In and out.

Brash exhales. "Oh for..." He lifts one of his hands to his forehead before lowering it again. "Just don't pass out in there, okay? Grab my arm or something, if you're really going to lose it." If I didn't know better, I'd say he sounds concerned. But since I've seen the way he acts, I'm pretty confident that he just doesn't want to explain himself to Mark. If I pass out, uncomfortable questions might be asked.

"I'll.. try to keep calm."

"Good. Let's get this shit over with already."

As we enter Mark's tent, I immediately see Flora. He's embracing her so.. lovingly. I've not seen him show that kind of affection towards me. Maybe ever. Holding her so tightly to his chest. I thought I didn't care about their engagement. I thought I was over everything that happened. Seeing them together, the way he holds her..

_Fucking.. Fuck. Fuck, Fuck. Agrh. I almost feel like crying. So pathetic._

I cross my arms as I look away from the two, not interested in seeing whatever they're doing. I might just break my neck turning so far left, honestly. Brash moves a bit in front of me, covering some of the unpleasant view, but I'm sure Mark can still see me without any issue.

  
" 'Commander', you wanted to see us?" Brash addresses him in a ridiculing tone. "What do you want?"

Mark clears his throat and, clutching Flora's hand in his, he attempts to sound authoritative. "How **dare** you assault a fellow soldier! I could have you **martialed** for this!"

Brash snorts, "Don't fucking bring cunts into a military camp, if they can't defend themselves!"

I can hear Flora being upset, she's still sobbing. "Bright, thank you so much for.. what you did." I turn around to look at her, but.. "You saved me even tho-"

_Fuck, I can't. I just can't. Seeing those two hold hands while she thanks me for saving her.. It feels like such a fucking kick in the face._

  
"Don't.. Don't thank me." I hear my voice breaking slightly, but I power through. "I didn't do it for you. Not even for your fucking fawn. I did it because it was the right thing to do." Once I'm done talking, I look straight at the ground, facing in the direction of the two. I'm certain that I will be addressed again, might as well be ready.

Flora only sighs. I see her step a bit further away from Mark, maybe to make me less uncomfortable. "I.. understand. Thank you, anyway."

Brash relieves us from the awkward silence by making a crude comment at Mark. "The fact that your ex saved your current whore only makes is so much more fucking hilarious."

Mark gasps at Brash's words, readying a response, but Brash cuts him off, "Don't bother denying anything, we all know the fucking truth."

I see Mark's head shake hearing what Brash just said. He turns towards me. "Bright, I am terribly sorry for the way I treated you earlier. I was purely frustrated with my duties. Please, forgive me." He bows deeply in my direction. 

I only manage to stare at him with an open mouth. My body is slowly giving out as I watch him ask for my forgiveness. How can I ever forgive him for.. anything? How can I possibly? Only earlier did I find out I had been fooled by Sybil. If anything is going to put the final nail in my sanity's coffin, it's this situation. 

I can't handle being here with Mark. Or with Flora. I want to just run off and never see anybody again. 

I consider Brash's offer. To grab his arm, squeeze it, as if to release all my frustration at something.

But I need to do this alone. Without his help. Like I did before. Orchid knew better than to jump in when I needed saving. She helped me find the strength to fight my angst. 

_"Don't ever let him see you down." I can do this._

  
Clearing my throat, I inhale deeply. I need to tell him exactly what I've been thinking since the knighting. What's been on my mind this entire time. It all needs to finally leave my mouth.

"Mark. I am not forgiving you for it. For anything. Ever. You've never defended me, you've only ever used me. You used my connection with Orchid for your recommendation. Then you tried to humiliate me right after being knighted, saying I will enjoy kneeling for you. When you had to execute me, you've only shown how weak you are."

Mark opens his mouth in protest but I quickly interrupt him. "- **AND**. Last but not least, you visited me in prison to tell me you broke off our engagement, all because you 'didn't want to be associated with a demon'."   
I quickly look at Flora, "Oh, yes, I'm a fucking demon and a complete lunatic, as you can see." I turn back at Mark before anybody can say anything. 

"Also, it seems nobody but a few important people in Feline know about my 'condition'! Which is really funny, since you said you didn't want to be **associated** with 'a demon like me'." I scoff at him and press on with my train of thoughts.

"You didn't have to visit me in there. But you did. You came to make yourself feel better. You had to see the cursed 'demon girl' to justify your new engagement. Well fucking here I am. And I am never forgiving you for any of this."

  
I exhale deeply and lean my head on my back for a moment. What a rush. It's all finally dropped from my mind. All of it, out in the open. I genuinely smile to myself. So satisfying.   
Moving my head back, I see all three of them staring at me, shocked to their cores. Flora is completely stunned, Mark is closer to being astonished, but Brash.. He seems amused, somewhat proud. I think he's giving me that sleazy grin again, but I can't see very well.

Brash laughs shortly under his breath. "Well, kitten, I didn't fucking expect that. Seems like you have more balls than these two put together," Brash says, directing his comment to Mark and Flora. Raising his hands in the air in frustration, he adds, "You going to finally say what you wanted or what? I don't have the whole fucking day."

Mark begins frowning in my direction, giving me an offended look. "I only meant to tell you to start training Bright. And that the two Feline soldiers accompanying you on the mission will be Jasper and Tounnes. You may choose the two Scarcewall ones yourself."

Brash looks at him perplexed, "That's **all**? I fucking knew all of this already. Fuck's sake." He turns to leave the tent, pushing me in the direction of the exit. Mark stops him, making us both turn around.

  
"Sir, please, if you have any sense of morals or honour at all, treat Bright with respect. She's been through enough pain and suffering."

Brash looks at him almost insulted. Swiftly, he turns to me and says, "See, I told you he'd try to teach me how to fuck you!" He laughs monsterously. "Don't worry about her." Eyeing me with a perverted grin, Brash glares at my chest, "This one deserves to be treated **real** nice."  
  
I scoff at his behaviour in disgust and turn my back to him, waiting for when he's done talking to Mark. But, alas, his next words are still directed at me. "How can I be bad to a girl who's so impatient to show me all of her body parts?" My eyes widen at the insinuation as I shake my head.

"Agh-" I cry out, suddenly. Someone is grabbing me from behind, wrapping one of their arms around my waist, the other in my hair. It must be Brash. He's holding me, pressing my body tightly against his. This.. This exact thing has already happened before. I am certain of it.

_That.. dream. It was exactly like this. How the fuck is that possible? It was months ago, too._

"Should have kept her out of trouble, 'Sir'," he taunts Mark while he closes in on me, pressing his head to mine. "If she were mine, she'd **never** go to jail," his voice feels so close. I can feel it on my hair, my face, my neck. I start trembling. This embrace he forced me into.. I want out of it.

"Mark! Do something!" Flora pleads with him, but he's not saying anything.

"Please, let me go. You're.. hurting me." I whimper out softly. He releases me almost instantly. I walk out of the tent right after. Heading to the first tree I see, I sit down next to it. My vision is turning blurry. I hear some raised voices coming from inside the tent. I don't care enough to listen.

  
That embrace.. It felt so wrong. So.. vile. Just like that dream. How is it possible they were so very much alike? Exactly the same feeling, but thank Gods he didn't attempt to do anything more.

Mark and Flora both storm out of the tent. Brash soon follows, but instead heads towards me. Once again, there is no time for a breakdown. I'm surrounded by all kinds of curious eyes. I blink rapidly multiple times and get back up. I can't avoid him.

He approaches me, ignoring what happened entirely. "That cunt wants you with advanced combat training, and you've never even fucking held a weapon properly," he follows with an annoyed scoff. "Has he ever shown you anything? Apart from his cock."

My hand covers my face. _Fucking hells._ I pull it away and force myself to look into his eyes. "Stop insinuating me and him did anything. And, no. There was never any need to teach me," I purse my lips and look away from him in protest.

Brash means to elaborate on my training, I'm sure, but I need to make something clear, first.  
  
"Please.. don't touch me like you did without my permission again. Or at least give me a godsdamned warning. I didn't expect it. It.. scared me." Brash looks at me seriously, considering my request. He relaxes his facial muscles and nods resolutely.

"..So, you've got no training at all. What a fucking idiot he is. Girls need to know how to fight, too, when there's no cock to protect them."

I roll my eyes at his choice of words. "..Will you teach me, then? I could use your guidance.." I quickly drop my gaze to the ground before adding, "..Sir."

Brash snickers, hearing me call him that again. I know there is a very obvious hate for the Scarcewall knights, and from what I've seen so far, a lot of the rumours seem true. At least, the attempted rape.   
I'm not sure whether they honestly meant to do anything to Flora. Brash never even approached her and Jarlan could have obviously threatened her with a weapon. They never did any of that. Maybe.. they were 'only' trying to torment her? Even then, she didn't deserve it.

"I'll teach you. Tomorrow. Today's already been too fucking long. Go to sleep and when you wake up, find me where you found us earlier. It's secluded enough for a few tests we need to do."

I stagger and look at him in fear, "Wait.. where **do** I sleep? Also, what tests..?"

Aggravated, he opens his eyes wide and looks deep into mine with anger. "Girl, just go find a bedroll and lie down. If you're scared of getting raped, go sleep next to the two pussy cats that are joining us. The.. Fuckface and Shithead. Whatever their names are. They won't try anything," his voice is rising in tension.  
"And I said you'll see the tests tomorrow. Now **go** already. You need the fucking rest, you look messed up," Brash's expression relaxes, a smirk shows up on his lips.

"My word, thanks for that compliment," I can't help but roll my eyes again. "Good night, **Sir** ," I finish with a pouting look before storming off in the direction of a campfire. 

  
After recieving a warm cup of soup and devouring it, I head towards the bedrolls and tents. All of the sleeping zones seem to be separated by some distance. Good. And.. I think I even see Jasper among other soldiers. Thank Gods.

I approach him and say, "Hello, Jasper! Mind if I sleep here? I'm not sure where else to go, honestly," I tell him with an innocent smile.

"Oh, of course, Bright!" He bids me to take an empty bedroll next to him. "I have just heard we're both in the group meant for.. well, you know what I'm talking about." He winks cheekily, not saying anything about the mission outloud. I suppose it **is** a secret, after all.

I finally take everything off of myself. At least, the bow and my bag. They weighed heavy on me the whole day. I place them beside me, clutching the bag a bit closer. It has things I wouldn't want others to see. 

Jasper asks worriedly, "How did it go with the knights? From my experience I know they're both rather.. unpleasant. And quite vile." That question. My lips pucker up upon hearing it. It wasn't a very good introduction, after all.  
  
"It.. could have gone worse." Which is technically true. "I'm to start training with Sir Brash tomorrow. Do you.. know anything about him?" Jasper appears deep in thought for a moment. "Well.. not much. He's got a bunch of deep scars and an evil-looking black eye. That's all I know, really- Oh, wait, there **is** one thing." Hearing that, I look at Jasper in anticipation.  
  
"I've heard some rumour, it concerned the reason for him becoming a knight. Apparently Lord Mace chose him personally because he.." Jasper swallows nervously and looks from side to side, as if to make sure nobody hears him. "He is the son of a demon and a witch."

Well.. That's a disappointing rumour. I cringe and say, "Jasper.. I doubt most people know what they're talking about when throwing this demon talk around." Remembering what the actual demon lord I met looks like, I'm rather certain all the men here would lose their minds if they saw him.   
  
"And.. I think people might just be making up these stories because of his eye. I'm quite sure that's also the reason he doesn't hide it - to scare others."

Jasper looks like he's considering my words. Oh well. Before I go to sleep, I'd like to write down what happened. Maybe something obvious will hit me again when I write the words down.

I pull the journal out and prepare the writing supplies Rose gifted me.

\-------  
 **Journal Entry #2**

Finally, I've arrived to the camp. Rose had to leave, unfortunately. She said her report was expected back at Scarcewall. Before departing, she left me her dagger and some writing supplies.

Upon arrival, I encountered Jasper. He helped me find my way to the commander. Mark. Who would have thought. He spoke about the mission I'm here for. I am to join a group of soldiers, later revealed to consist of Jasper, Tounnes, Sir Brash and two other Scarcewall soldiers I didn't yet meet.

Speaking of which, Sir Brash - the tall, blonde knight of Scarcewall. I didn't even know his name before today. Now I'm going to be his trainee. At times he treated me with some twisted level of concern, while other times he couldn't wait to curse me out. I'm not sure what to think of him, yet. He does seem experienced in battle, if scars are anything to go by. Having him as my instructor should prove challenging but rewarding.

There was also an interesting - or rather unsettling - moment during our confrontation with Mark. Sir Brash embraced me in an incredibly undesirable manner, most likely to provoke a reaction out of Mark. He quite honestly terrified me. But, it's the way he did it. It was the exact same as from a dream I had after the knighting. His hands enveloped me the same way. No excessive showing of affection. And he also didn't kill me afterwards.

I wonder what the dreams I used to have meant? I do remember having dreamt about a few things before they'd even happen. Like with Sir Brash's voice. Or hearing exact phrases that keep reappearing.   
Was there ever any connection between them, or were they all just a complete illogical mess?

Training starts tomorrow. I wonder what awaits me.  
\-------

"I suppose you're right, Bright." Jasper wakes me up from my trance. I hide the journal back in my bag, using it as a pillow. Not only because I don't have anything else, but also to prevent anyone from opening it. I've taken all the arrows out beforehand, no chance of waking up with one accidentally stuck in my head now.  
I am still wary of some soldiers' intentions. Making sure I'm prepared, I lie on my left side, leaving the boot with my dagger available to my right hand.

"Good night, Jasper."

"Good night, Bright."

Let's hope for another meeting with Lord Sorin. I think I've figured out my next question.


	9. Dreaming of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another dream. The first time Bright has a reccuring nightmare. The previously told lies turn into truths. Lord Sorin also appears and shares more information with Bright.

I sit down on a chair and examine the pamplet in front of me, choosing what meal and drink to order. Voices overwhelm the entire building. No people are around. The inn is completely empty.

"Can ye see how full the inn is?" Sybil asks with her fake accent. She's sitting right in front of me. Wearing her blonde wig and with a hood on, she looks just like she did when she lied to me, in that alley. One of her hands is supporting her head on the table, while the other's fingers tap on her thigh.

Looking through the menu, I try to find some options we might enjoy eating. "How about we order two of 'Knight's Embrace' and a bottle of wine?" I ask her, still with my head searching through the pamplet.

Humming a tune I've definitely heard before, she nearly sings her response, "Wine? Sure. Who cares. Ye sure don't. Ye never fuckin' did, anyway."

Shocked, I move my eyes from the pamplet and look at Sybil. Her face is splattered with blood, she's giving me a disturbing look. The hand previously tapping her thigh is now instead holding a dagger, she stabbed its blade inside the table.

Realising what's going on, I bark out, "You betrayed me. I trusted you. I believed you. I cared about you. Everything you said was a fucking lie."

Sybil stands up from the chair and drops down on the floor. The dagger is left stabbed inside the table. Sybil is lying on the floor, dead. Her dress seems to be soaked in blood. A dozen of stab wounds appear all over her body. Her skin turns to a pale, ashen colour.

Seconds later, she stands up and sits back in the chair, as if nothing happened. Finally looking into my eyes, she responds in a hum, nearly singing her answer, "Ye fell for everything I ever said. It was so easy, decieving ye. I would do it again and again. I would make ye watch as I kill my sister. I wonder what colour ye would turn."

Bewildered by what she's saying, I try to reach out to her. My hand passes through her body.

"It **wouldn't** be red. The man likes red. The woman likes black. The lord likes white. You, on the other hand.. You don't have **any** colour," she responds, her accent now gone again. Sybil's hand starts playing around with the handle of the dagger. Her foot is tapping the ground excitedly.   
  
"Or maybe, you do. You **do** , don't you!" Sybil stands up from her chair, knocking it over in the process. With a vicious look, she yells: "YOU HAVE THE COLOUR OF NOTHING!"

Pulling the dagger out of the table, she lunges at my throat.  
  


Flash.

Bang.

  
Now, a demonic creature stands where Sybil stood just a moment ago. Lord Sorin again. And what a timing. I was too stunned to react to whatever my head was creating.

"I see your mind is having troubles? Most curious." With a devious look, he examines the dagger that fell to the ground when Sybil vanished. "You have a serpent in your life. Quite extraordinary that you are not dead."

 _What..?_ I take a look at the dagger. It's an ordinary dag- wait, no. It's the one Rose gifted me. Just as beautiful as it is in reality. I pick it up and place it in front of me on the table.

"My acolyte. You have more questions, I assume. But.. I quite enjoyed our last restriction! You may only ask me one question per encounter," he exclaims with a determined look.

_Well.. that is unfortunate. I had a few things I wanted to ask. So.. which one is the most important right now..?_

"Lord Sorin, could you please explain the significance of being attributed to a specific hell, or rather specific overlord? I have wondered about that since our last meeting. It seems Orchid wanted to make sure I end up in your care."

With an intrigued look, he responds, "Well chosen question, acolyte. You used all the information I gave you during our last encounter, and figured out the next logical question. You do not disappoint."

He spreads his wings and begins writing symbols into the air, just like he did before. This time, the symbols are only four and all in different colours.

  
"Surely you're already aware of the four Hell planes. They are white, red, black and pale. The demonic names are meaningless to you, so I will stick to the mortal ones."

The first symbol begins to glow in a bright, blinding white. Showing images of battles and victories, it stops on an image of a person. A person with a crown.

"The first Hell plane created was white. White plane seeks conquest. If you were to become a white demonheart, you would inherit the passion and ambition for conquest, victory and ruling."

As the first symbol fades, the second lights up. Thick, bloody red. Crimson. It shows images of mangled bodies, blood and gore. It ends with an image of a warrior.

"The second Hell plane created was red. Red plane seeks war. If you were to become a red demonheart, you would inherit the bloodthirst and need for battle and war."

The third symbol shines, but.. backwards. It's draining the light around, deep into its abyss black center. A few lights spark inside it, showing death, suffering, famine. Last shown is an image of.. seemingly an ordinary woman.

"The third Hell plane created was black. Black plane seeks misery. If you were to become a black demonheart, you would inherit the desire to cause misery in others, watching their suffering until their last moments."

_This is unsettling as fuck. And I thought what happened with Sybil a moment ago was bad._

"And, finally," he grins as he prepares to speak again, "The fourth Hell plane. Pale. Gray. Invisible. Whichever you wish to call it. Our plane. Pale seeks death. And since you became a pale demonheart, you are the only one out of all the colours that can be anything."

Expecting the last symbol to show me something, it.. doesn't. It disappears instead.

Seeing my confusion, Lord Sorin attempts to elaborate. "We are the oldest Hell plane, even if listed as the last. Death always comes first. Death is blind. That is why I find it so pleasing that you want to be just. Justice and Death have that blindness in common."   
  
Lord Sorin leans over to me and whispers, "You will make the perfect Mors," before-

  
Flash.

Bang.

_  
That.. was a rather rude exit._

The inn returns to what it was before. Sybil is sitting next to me again, now looking at her pamplet. No wig or hood. She looks exactly like she did the first time I met her.

_It's not the same anymore. Now I know what truly happened. It can never return._

Eyeing the dagger in front of me, I touch its blade carefully.

"You should be careful with that, you know."

_What is-_

I look up. It's Brash. Once more, in my dream. I swear, I can never just have a nice and proper dream, huh?

Brash sits down on another chair, opposite of Sybil and next to me. He sees our meals. "What the hells did you order, kitten? 'Knight's Embrace'? I didn't know you enjoyed it **that** much." He throws me a hungry, longing look.

_Gods. Just perfect. Why not just let the entire camp into my head?_

"Fancy seeing you here. Well, I hope you like wine, it's coming shortly. It's **actually** surprisingly good-"

Sybil interrupts me, but doesn't direct her voice to me. Rather, she speaks to Brash.  
  


"Don't tell me, she doesn't even know, huh?" Sybil laughs right after.

He smirks, "Fuck no. Let it be a surprise. I want to see how she reacts."

_I.. sort of feel like a third wheel. In my own dream. Gods, I'm a bit self-destructive, aren't I?_

"Look at her! I wish I was there when she finds out." Sybil now turns to me with a look full of spite.

And so does Brash. Their expressions mirror each other. "It might take a while, but I know it's going to be worth every single fucking moment I have to suffer around her."

_Okay.. this is only getting weirder.. and fucking horrifying._

"Let's just get this over with, then," Sybil says annoyed, returning her attention back to the pamplet.

Before I can react, Brash reaches for the dagger and.. There it is. Again.  
  


A sharpness enters my chest, right at my heart.

His wicked sneer appears.

Red liquid emanates from my wound.

Rose's dagger.

He's clutching its handle.

The liquid now veils my body entirely.

Crimson red drowns the whole room.

  
Gasping for air, I inhale my own blood.  
  
It reminds me of wine.

  
I awake.  
  



	10. Pushing Buttons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright and Brash return to the secluded area they met at the day before. Brash conducts a few of tests to figure out Bright's special ability.

I breathe the fresh, morning air into my lungs. Yesterday, at the same exact time, I would still awake in my cell. Being here almost seems like a paradise. At least, in comparison.

I get up from the bedroll, pulling my bag over the shoulder. The bow follows. Arrows are back in my bag. It's still fairly early, but most of the soldiers are awake already. I should make myself some food before the training begins. The energy might be necessary to keep me going.

Approaching the campfire I shortly visited yesterday, only to grab a cup of soup before sleeping, I notice the old man again. He's the one who led me to the location of the knights.

"Good morning, sir," I greet him warmly with a polite smile. He's busy eating his own food, I'll be quick about it and make mine fast. "How was your first day in the camp, dear? Did anybody give you trouble?" the man asks worriedly. He **did** warn me about the knights before. Knowing what they're like, I see he was right to worry.

"It was rather difficult in the beginning, but.. I'm getting used to it. And nobody gave me trouble, perhaps only 'Sir' Mark. And Sir Brash," I frown slightly at the thought of his embrace. It still bothers me. Not being able to escape from it, relying fully on his mercy. My arms shiver.

"Sir Mark? I find that hard to believe! He's such a proper lad." I nearly laugh hearing that. Mark must be very good at pretending, but that doesn't come as a surprise. "..Much better than that beast, Sir Brash! How he even became a knight is beyond me. Be careful around him, child, he is a twisted monster."

Not to anger him, I squint at the soup rather than at him directly. I am not surprised he'd think such thoughts about either of them. Mark cares enough about his reputation to pretend in front of everybody. Brash shows you exactly who he is. Even if it's being an impudent and vulgar barbarian.

I get the unstoppable urge to cause some chaos. "Someone told me to be wary of Sir Brash, too. Apparently, he was knighted by Lord Mace himself because he's supposedly a son of a demon and a witch."

The man's eyes widen in shock. "By the three Gods! It **could** be true, could it not? That would explain his animalistic nature." Seeing him actually believe that ridiculous rumour is almost sad. Nobody here seems to know anything about demons or witches whatsoever, yet they act like they know everything.

It's sort of amusing, the reality of my presence. If I didn't have the armor covering my throat, they would not wait before putting me on a stake and burning me alive. The blissful ignorance of not knowing about my condition is nearly tragic. This man seems to care about my well-being, but the second he'd figure out what I am, I'd only be another demon to him.

My soup is done. A minute more to eat it and I can finally go. "Well, who knows, really. Maybe he's just an unfortunate soldier, injured in a conflict. It shouldn't be his fault if his eye was damaged and turned black as a result. I wish not to judge him before knowing the facts," I calmy respond, waiting for what he will retaliate with.

The man seems in thought. "You are too kind, my child. But that eye of his is a symbol of demonic curse! He **must** be a child of a demon. I am sure of it, now."

I sigh. _Well, that is truly disappointing._ His way of thinking is deeply flawed. Clearly, he needs to be shown how foolish he's being. "Can I ask for your name, sir? Oh, by the way, I am Bright," I bow my head.

"Call me Fisher, my child." _Fisher? Interesting name._ I smile mischievously. "Mister Fisher. The entire story of him being the son of a witch and a demon.. It is only a baseless, ignorant rumour. It's completely untrue."

Fisher looks at me curiously, maybe slightly unsure of what I'm saying. "Child, you need not protect him. You are too innocent for this camp. Promise me, you will stay safe."

_Can people stop telling me to promise them things? I'm not promising him anything. The one I gave to Rose at least had meaning. But the promise Fisher is suggesting is worthless even in concept._

"No need to worry about me, sir. I will be fine." Having finished my soup I bid the man goodbye, moving towards the eastern part of the camp. Heading back to where I met the two knights yesterday. I am rather excited, I don't know what to expect from the tests Brash talked about.

  
A voice stops me.

  
"Hey, girlie! Where do ye think yer goin'!" A shout comes from my right, the south of the camp. Jarlan. I.. nearly forgot about him. Thinking about what I did.. I honestly feel rather bad about it.

He's approaching me slowly, still holding a bowl in his right hand. It's almost empty. "Ye gonna be a crazy lass again? Better not try tha' shit wit' Brashy. He might just kill ye!" Jarlan laughs heartily.

"Sir, a-about what happened yesterday," I frown apologetically as I look at him. "I was definitely acting like a.. crazy bitch," his eyebrows lift in expectation. "I am truly sorry I tried to.. do what I did. You might have deserved being knocked down on the ground, with whatever you were doing to Flora, but.. You don't deserve to die. You are innocent of what.. someone said you did." Not caring about the opinions of people watching, I bow down deeply.

When I see Jarlan again, he looks like something just hit him in the face. " **Gods** , cat, ye're makin' me blush! Don't worry 'bout what happened, Brash told me what ye said. An' 'twas sorta fun! We should do it again sometime! Har har har!" Jarlan is back to laughing deeply.

Ignoring his last comment, I smile at him, glad he isn't genuinely upset with me.

"Well, go on then, yer knight is waitin'. Tell Brash not ta ride ye too hard on yer first day!" He walks off, laughing again. Maybe that's just.. his usual way of following up on conversations?

_What did he mean with 'not ride me too hard'? I.. hope if he meant it literally, it will involve a horse-riding lecture. Otherwise.. Uh.. I suppose I'll find out._

***

"Fucking finally. Did your slut ass get lost having to fuck all the soldiers on the way?"

_The.. creativity of his insults seems like second nature to him. It's almost impressive. I should suggest he writes literature, his way with words is extraordinary._

"Wow..." I stare at him for a couple of moments, processing his comment. "..Anyway. Good morning to you too, Sir," I respond sarcastically. Still baffled, I take my bag off my shoulder and put it next to a rock wall. Bow comes off next. He said he wants to test me, whatever that means. I should be ready for anything.

Glancing behind him, I see a table was brought here since yesterday. Most likely in the morning. A bunch of different weapons lie on it. He's examining some of them intently. I can recognise most of them - shields, maces, hammers, flails, swords of various sizes and some daggers. No ranged weapons. Perhaps I will not be trained to work with any?

"Okay, kitten. We need to figure out what your speciality is," he says with a straight face, his body entirely turned to me now.

"Well.. I don't really know what weapon would fit me. What do you suggest?"

Examining me carefully, he takes two swords from behind him and closes the distance between us.

_I guess here we go..?_

Once he's close enough, he hands me one sword. "Tightly grip it in your dominant hand. The one you jerked your ex with." I throw him a disgusted, revolted look. "..Or the one you write with," annoyed, Brash reiterates.

 _Okay, I'm gripping it tightly in my right hand._  
  
"What do I-"

Brash swings his sword aggresively into mine, making it fly right out.  
  
"FUCK! That really hurt!" I cry out right after. No time for pleasantries. When it flew out, the handle completely twisted my hand.

Brash sighs. "That was pathetic. Pick it up again and this time, actually fucking try."

_Ah, I guess this is what Jarlan meant. It's not going to be very easy, huh? But.. I'll try as hard as I can. I don't want to be a burden on the group once we have to depart._

  
I jump over to the sword lying on the ground and pick it up. Once again, I hold it in my grasp, this time ready for what will come next. Brash approaches with a hunger I've not seen in his eyes before. He swings his sword at me again, but... he trips my leg instead and I fall on the ground.

"Wha- How was I supposed to expect **that**?" I'm beginning to get slightly frustrated at his not willing to guide me. Seeing myself fail also hurts, not only physically.

He's getting irritated at my failure. And not just any kind of iritation, he seems truly infuriated. A blazing fire burns in his eyes. This must be what he's like with other soldiers.

"Get up. Let's try this another way." Brash walks back to the table and picks up a shield and a mace.

I get up from the ground and pat the dirt off my armor. Watching for what he does next, I tense my whole body.

With his back still turned to me, he says, "So, it's not dexterity. Which is fucking obvious since you couldn't even hold that tiny bow properly."

 _Dexterity? What.._ "What do you mean? What isn't dexterity?"

Brash exhales violently at my question and hits the table with his mace. Today isn't his day, clearly, and I'm not making it any better.  
  


"Your speciality. The most important part of this entire thing. Once we know what useless ability you've been given, we can begin the actual training."

I sigh, "Well, how do we figure it out, then?"

He turns around, smirking, as he throws me the shield. "Take a few steps back." I move, now standing about twenty feet from him. "Hold the shield. I will come at you with a mace. Block as best you can, and try to push me back."

_**What?** That sounds **insane!** I can't possibly-_

No time to think, he's already charging at me.

I lift the shield.

  
Boom.

  
The impact throws me face first to the ground. "Oh you.. asshole." I can't stop my mouth from saying that. That shit honestly hurt.

Brash has already made his way back to the other side of the area, examining the table again. "Well, I guess I already knew it wasn't strength. And since you got fucking caught the day after you killed Orchid, it sure isn't intelligence either."

That comment gets to me. With new-found determination, I get up and exclaim, "I didn't kill her! I would never!" most likely also staring daggers at him.

Brash grins and says, "I know, kitty girl. Having heard what happened, whoever killed her must have really hated her. But, then again, maybe you snapped and did it without knowing!" He laughs.

_How can he even say that? Let alone laugh!_

"I said I didn't-"

He cuts me off, "Yeah, yeah, much good that did you when they killed you. Let's continue before I start getting hungry... There **is** one snack I'd love to get my hands on," he starts eyeing my entire body with that perverted sneer of his.

"Stop that."

"Make me."

"How the hells can I?"

"Not my problem, kitten."

"Agh! Stop calling me that!"

"Then make me!"

  
He triggers something inside me and, unconsciously, I take out Rose's dagger and lunge at him at incredible speed. In a blink of an eye, I've already closed the distance between us completely. But, almost as if he expected it, he grabs me by my arms when I get too close.

"What, did you miss me **that** much, kitty cat? Or are you just horny for another knight? This place must be getting to you, huh?" Brash shoves me away as he snickers. "We're done."

I feel like screaming out of frustration. My hand is clutching the handle of Rose's dagger so viciously, I feel I might just break it.

"What the **hells** do you mean we're done? Did I not perform to your expectations, you dense bastard?" And once again, the insult leaves my mouth without me even noticing. Brash pushed me too far today.

This whole thing reminds me of dealing with Mark, how his behaviour infuriates my entire being. I assume this is exactly how I'd react with him, if I knew he could take it. Which I know Brash can. Mark, on the other hand, is so incompetent, I might have actually killed him on accident.

  
Ignoring my comment completely, Brash says: "Could have been better. So, it's not spirit or endurance. Those are fucking worthless, anyway. But, we do have a winner. Speed. And from what I've seen, your shit gets triggered by anger." He laughs again, "Of course it would, especially in such a tame cat."

_Huh? What the hells! It was all just a test..? Or what?_

"You can fucking throw that bow of yours into a campfire. You're training with short swords and daggers from tomorrow. Don't come here, either. Find me in the camp when you wake up."

_What. Just. Happened. I feel like I just missed half of the conversation._

Brash puts the weapons back on the table and turns to leave, "We're done for today, tomorrow-"

  
I yell out at him aggresively while manically breathing.

  
"GODS!" My head and arms shake violently. "I'm confused like mad! Can you actually explain what is going on?!"

Brash stops, looking at me unamused. Perhaps annoyed. He walked a bit further from the table and towards me while I was yelling, so now we're standing somewhat close again.

"I know you're not a **dumb** whore, so I have to assume you're just fucking deaf, huh?" Brash looks at me with an enraged expression. "Did you not hear anything I said, bitch?"

My hand, the one with the dagger, is itching to move towards him. But I know better than that. It would gain me nothing. As Jarlan said, trying anything like I did yesterday, but with Brash instead, might honestly get me killed. Or lead to some wicked eternal torture.

I breathe in.  
I breathe out.  
 _Just.. relax, Bright._

"I heard 'speed' and 'short weapons'. What the fuck does any of that mean? How is it even connected?"

Brash rolls his eyes. "You don't fucking know anything, do you? ..Fuck's sake." After shaking his head, he pushes me out of his way and walks off in the direction of the camp.

Turning around, I see Brash walking without a pause. I consider screaming behind him and demanding answers, but eventually realise it's honestly better to stay calm. Determined to find out what's going on, I grab my bag and my bow before running after Brash.

  
Once I reach him, I try to keep up with his steps, walking next to him. Seems like he is in a hurry to get back to the camp. "I'm sorry for freaking out. Will you.." I exhale defeatedly before continuing, "..please explain what you meant with my 'speed'?"

Moving his head to his right, seeing me looking at him, he frowns and returns his gaze back to the path. Either he's frustrated with my question or with my lack of knowledge. Or both.

"If you listened at all, you'd remember me saying we needed to find your speciality. Your demonic power. Most demonhearts I've trained were 'blessed' with strength, some with dexterity. You're a speedy slut." Brash's voice remains dispassionate throughout the explanation.

  
I think thouroughly about what he said. _Demonic speed..? I suppose I've always been faster than others. Maybe.. my transition enhanced this ability?_

"I see.. So, why exactly short weapons? Wouldn't it also make sense to have me train with a bow? You know, nocking arrows quickly..."

Brash sharply scoffs at my suggestion. "I won't train you to be a pussy, or a bigger one than you already are. If you want to train with a bow, go suck the old cunt's cock instead." Usually I would expect a laugh from him after such a remark. Nothing comes out.

Frowning in aversion, I only respond, "Eww, please don't say things like that. It's disgusting." Hearing my answer, Brash snickers and looks at me accusatively, "And what, the thought of sucking mine doesn't disgust you? Knew you were a whore, but you're a picky one apparently."

Immediately after he says that, I take a few long, quick steps away from him. Still walking together, we are separated by a much greater distance now.

"You're unbearably vulgar, rude and nasty to me. I can't believe you keep calling me that word. As if I've ever given you any reason for it."  
  
A chuckle.  
  
"I don't mean only you in particular, kitten. I mean your entire sex, you're all whores. Even if you don't know it yet."  
  
"That's incredibly ignorant, even by your standards."  
  
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Nothing... Bastard."  
  
"Witty whore."  
  


We reach the camp. Brash parts and heads to the southern part of the camp. I can see Jarlan watching him as he approaches. Having had enough of him, I do not intend to follow him.

Time to find something to do until I can go to sleep.  
  



	11. The Inquisitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright meets a certain merchant and discovers more about the history of Hells and their inquisitors.
> 
> [Short expansion on my added elements of the story]

_Well.. what the hells do I do until tomorrow? I've still got a few hours before it's time to sleep._  
  
I decide to walk around the camp and investigate, see what there is to do. The soldiers' eyes still stare me down, as if they were undressing me with them. I remember to stay calm and tense my stomach to the maximum.  
  
Someone dressed in fine clothes appears from inside a small tent. Not a soldier, clearly. He's likely a merchant of some kind, a trader using this war to enrich himself with the Southern Alliance's gold.  
  
I wish I had some gold with me, but everything was confiscated before imprisonment. What wouldn't I give to get my hands on a book. Orchid's library always had something of great intrigue. Well, I could still ask him if he has books at all. After all, this is a military camp. I honestly doubt he'd bring any here.  
  
  
"U-uh, hello, sir!" I yell out to the man.  
  
Finding where my voice came from, he locks his eyes with mine. "Welcome, my lady! What an honour to see someone like you in this hellhole. How may I serve you?" He offers a polite bow.  
  
I respond shakily, "I was only wondering, do you perhaps have any books? I understand it may be an odd question, considering where we are."  
  
The merchant laughs heartily. "Young lady, truly I did not expect to see anyone interested in literature here! I am a man of passion for knowledge, so I always bring some books with me. Care to take a look?"  
  
I nod happily at his question.  
  
Reaching back into his tent, he pulls out a stack of books. Some new, some worn, others considerably old. Most of them seem to be, at least from what the symbols tell me, stories of heroic tales and legends.  
  
"Would you like to look through them, my lady?" The man offers. I cannot refuse that. Gratefully smiling, I nod, and he pushes the stack towards me.  
  
  
As I investigate them one by one, I realise I've already read most of them. The tales of old Alliran and its heroes. The legend of Balsa and her ten brave knights. The stories of kings and queens of the past.  
  
The last book, one of the incredibly old ones, is the only one that catches my full attention. Bearing a gray rose on the cover, the title is written right below it.  
  
  
'The Inquisitors of Hell'  
  
  
My body trembles reading it. That's the same exact description I've read in one of Orchid's books. The one failing to detail what pale Hell even is. The only information it offered was 'only the Inquisitors of Death may enter'.  
  
"I am so sorry, but.. Do you think I could borrow this book? I don't have any gold to pay you for it with."  
  
He eyes me, intrigued. Unsettling expression. Certain level of mischief flashes in his eyes. Perhaps he's only unsure whether to trust me with it.  
  
"You may keep it, dear. I know you will repay me, once you're able."  
  
 _Well, that's.. awfully nice of him. Suspiciously so. I will take him up on his offer, but return it anyway. I really don't want to owe him anything.  
  
_ "Thank you very much, sir!" I offer a curtsy and take the book. A smile appears on his lips. A thin smile. Turning away from him, I move towards my sleeping area.  
  
  
Having arrived at my bedroll, I take my bow and bag off. I suppose I will not be needing the bow anymore. Not that I ever did, really. All the arrows, also. _More space for other things, at least._  
  
Lying down on the bedroll, making myself comfortable, I open the book. Reading through a few pages, I decide to also take my journal out and make notes of interesting information. Since I will be returning the book anyway, might as well make the most of it.  
  
The book is definitely raising some questions. It tells a tale of demons of old. During their fight for power, they tore the world into four planes. Planes full of suffering and destruction. Hell planes.  
  
There is only a vague mention of Mors. The book describes it as a being of no emotions and no shape, designed only to exact Death and nothing more.  
  
Three other beings are mentioned also - Lim, Nevon and Kanaz. Lim being a general and leader of armies, Nevon a passionate and bloodthirsty warrior and Kanaz a peasant woman who spread misery upon thought.  
  
All of these apparently served together, as the four inquisitors of Hell. But.. the book mentions incredible hostility between them. That hostility being the catalyst leading to the wars on the original Hell plane, resulting in the explosion, or rather rupture, and the following creation of four different and separate planes.

 _I wonder if any of this is true.. It does mention Mors and Death together, just like Lord Sorin did. Perhaps it is correct. I assume nobody outside of demonhearts would be aware of this, so others only treat it as a tale._  
  
  
Time to write some notes down. First, the events of the whole day.  
  
\------  
 **Journal Entry #3  
** The same dream. Or, the same setting, but in the light of recent discoveries, the content changed. The outcome, as well. Sir Brash appeared in it, in addition. Him and Sybil seemed to conspire about something 'I am not aware of' and then Sir Brash killed me. Again.  
  
Four Demonheart Kinds  
White - Conquest (ambition, hunger for victory)  
Red - War (bloodthirst, seeking battles and conflict)  
Black - Misery (desire to cause pain in others, I imagine both physical and emotional)  
Pale - Death  
  
Lord Sorin didn't elaborate on what exactly pale demonhearts inherit. If it's anything at all. He said 'You can become anything', 'Death is blind' and that I will 'make the perfect Mors'.  
  
After conducting a few tests, Sir Brash determined my 'speciality' is speed. He also informed me that I am to start using short weapons and daggers as of tomorrow. If only he weren't so completely insufferable for the most of today. Something clearly bothered him.  
\------  
  
Only now do I notice how late it is. I've spent a few hours reading this book and quite some time writing in my journal. Sometimes I tend to get too invested.  
  
Hiding the book and my journal back inside my bag, I lie down on it once more. Jasper isn't here, yet. Perhaps training still. And I haven't seen the other one, Tounnes, at all. Maybe he sleeps somewhere else?  
  
  
My eyelids begin weighing heavy. The bedroll is incredibly uncomfortable, but even then, slowly, I drift away.


	12. Perforate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright practises with Brash for the first time.

No dreams came to me at night. No visit from Lord Sorin. Either he's busy with other of his 'acolytes' or he had no reason to appear. Maybe he's awaiting more progress. And, I assume I should answer the other question he's asked me ages ago. It still remains unanswered, at least partially.

"What are you willing to do to reach your goal?"

Nothing is obstructing my path towards it so far, so.. I cannot possibly know. Perhaps opportunities will appear over time.

Having just eaten my breakfast, I get up from the cooking fire and head towards the side of the camp occupied by Scarcewallers. These are the most horrifying of all the soldiers here. The way they look at me is different from the rest of the camp. Like I'm a piece of meat. If anyone resembles animals in here, it's them. They would have done worse to Flora than the two knights. Much worse.

"There she is, the fucking Queen of Shermyr herself," a mocking voice calls out to me from somewhere nearby. Looking around, I see it's, of course, Brash. Jarlan is standing right next to him.  
"Can you walk **any** slower, 'your grace'?" Brash asks, voice full of ridicule. Jarlan laughs out, while Brash only joins in with a smirk.

_I'm starting to wonder, does he even know my name? The amount of nicknames he's coming up with seems rather excessive._

As I approach them, I notice something different around that area. Three practice dummies now surround the knights, one dummy further in front while the other two sit back, almost leaning on a rock.

Finally having closed the distance and ending that awkward staring contest we had going, I relax and prepare for whatever comes next.

"For a speedy slut you're still a slow cunt," Brash says with a straight face. He's clutching something. Two short swords, each in one hand.

First thing I say to either of them ends up being a response to him, "Shut up." Brash managed to break my politeness yesterday. I don't feel bad about being impolite to him anymore. It definitely feels nice, telling him off. Even if mildly. Rose knew her stuff when she talked about this. 

Handing the swords over to me, holding them by the blade, he adds, "These are now yours. Today you will learn basic commands and postures. You're fucking useless without them."

I grab the swords and clutch their handles in my palms. They feel.. uncomfortable. As if something is wrong or missing. Maybe I'm just holding them wrong, but it's most likely just my not being used to the feeling yet.

"I'm sure we could find a use fer her anyway! Har har!" Jarlan laughs lungfully, he's truly amused with himself. As for me, not so much. I only throw him a glare in response.

Brash doesn't react, instead points towards the ground in front of the first dummy, "Come here."

I take a few steps until I arrive to where he pointed to. Now Jarlan stands about ten feet to my left, while Brash stands a few feet to my right, nearly behind me.

"If ye want ta stare at 'er ass, might as well fuck 'er while yer at it!" Jarlan yells out, as if to alert the entire camp. I honestly don't know how to react to that. First I throw him a furious look, but then I also look at Brash. He.. is actually staring at my butt. Disgusting, but not unexpected.

I back off from the dummy, enough so that Brash is visible to me while my butt becomes harder to stare at. That seems to be enough to break him out of the perverted trance. He looks into my eyes shortly, frowning slightly.

"Show us your guard," he says, now watching my positioning instead.

_How do I even guard with two shortswords? I'd understand if I were given a shield, but like this.._

"I.. don't know how to guard with weapons like these," I mumble out, raising the swords slightly to underline my point.

"Har har har! Should 'ave told 'er ta suck yer cock! She'd know how ta do tha'!" Jarlan bursts out again.

Brash moves his gaze to him and resolutely begins, "She's had enough shit in her life-"

Jarlan cuts him off, "Don't tell me ye really mean to train this cat!" not laughing anymore but seeming quite serious. Since I met him, this is the first time he's expressed any seriousness. He wasn't like this even when I pressed a dagger to his throat.

"I'll train her enough to make my own job easier. The other cunts won't protect some girl when their own lifes are at stake." Trying to remain calm at first, Brash's voice slowly tenses with every word.

"So wha'! If the gall manages to get 'erself killed, she'll just come back a lil' uglier wit' more scars!" Jarlan seems to honestly not care about my fate. As if dying means nothing and I'm just.. an inconvenience.

Brash throws him a dark look, perhaps taking Jarlan's remark a bit personally, considering his own.. appearance.

"I'm only tellin' ye for yer own good. Mace won't like this," Jarlan says, still completely serious.

Brash let's out a final, "Mace won't **hear** about this," lightly gritting his teeth while saying it.

Jarlan only shakes his head and walks off towards a further located campfire. Brash watches as he leaves with certain fury in his expression. Swiftly, he turns that expression towards me. He points at the ground again, but also moves closer to the dummy. Perhaps to assure me of his intentions not being focused towards perverted glaring. I approach the spot again.  
  


"Guarding with two shortswords is simple enough. First, we need to establish two blade directions. When I say front, you hold your swords, blade forward. When I say back, you hold your swords, blade backwards. Got it?"

I think about what he just said and finally nod.

"Let's see, then. Back." Brash's voice returns to what it was like yesterday. Forceful, commanding.

I twist the swords over in my hands, now with the blades facing behind me. Holding them like this feels more comfortable, honestly. More comfortable and natural.

"Front."

I twist them back to their original position.

"Well fucking thank Gods you figured it out on your own. If you didn't understand this simple shit, I'd honestly think you're brain-damaged." A smirk breaks his straight expression. Not for very long, it's already gone.

"Guarding, then. Lift your non-dominant arm, sword back, and pull your hand towards yourself. The blade of the sword will serve you as a way of deflecting attacks. Got it?"

 _Oh Gods, it's already difficult to follow without seeing it first. Alright, lift my non-dominant arm.._  
I lift my left arm.  
_Next.. sword back. Just like I did a second ago._  
I twist the sword in my hand.  
_And lastly, pull the hand towards myself._  
I pull my hand towards my body.

The blade now hugs my forearm bracers. I.. think I understand why this would be useful as a guarding position. It's as if I can block attacks with my forearm, but reinforced by the sword.

"Nice, you understand words. **Great** job!" Brash continues mockingly. I glare at him, annoyed at his taunting me.

  
"So, now that you know one part of guarding, let's see about these complicated commands; High and Low guard. Think you can figure **that** out?" Brash asks, once more, taunting and mocking me. I might just not be able to control myself if this is how every session will look.

"High-guard."

I raise my forearm in front of my face.

"Low-guard"

I lower my forearm to my stomach.

Slow clapping. Incredibly slow. Tensing the grip on the weapon handles, I'm already getting infuriated again. "You'll make a good little whore when we're done. Guys will thank me for training you to obey every com-"

"SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!" I seem to have interrupted him by screaming out. I'm.. pretty sure every single soldier around us heard me. Either he forgot how I reacted to repeated provocation yesterday, or he did it on purpose. He's an asshole either way.

Brash laughs out, "Finally, some godsdamned passion. Your movements are too slow. Put some of your bullshit ability into them."

I can't help but frown furiously, "Stop provoking me. I can't control myself when you push me like that."

No more laughter, back to seriousness. "Then learn how to. Only getting you pissed triggers your bullshit. Either learn how to control your anger or learn how to control your speed." Bastard. But.. he seems to be correct in his assumption. I need to find a way to control it, otherwise it's too unstable, too volatile to be considered useful.

"Now, attacking," Brash just continues as if nothing ever happened, "While you guard, attack with your dominant hand, sword fucking front, of course." Brash moves away from the dummy and begins walking around me. "So, show me a guard attack!"

Returning my arms back to position, I guard and then stab the wooden dummy in front of me, my right hand flying under my left.

"Low-guard attack," comes from behind me.

A variation of commands. I move my arm lower and, with my right hand flying over my left, I stab the dummy again. When returning back from the attack, something hits my behind. I turn my head around furiously. I see Brash holding another small sword in his hand. He.. slapped my butt with it. With a sword. What the fuck.

"Stop moving your ass around so violently when you attack. And take a wider stance," he says, pushing my left foot a bit further to the left.

"High-guard attack."

With even more anger, I raise my arm again and stab the dummy from under it.

"Finally some good speed. That's what I like to see, kitten," Brash relaxes his voice. "Now, a fast rotation. Listen to commands and execute them in order."

_Fast rotation..? I guess that means many of consecu-_

"Low guard."

Staggering at first, I quickly guard low.

"High-guard attack."

I guard high and attack.

"Basic attack."

Thinking about it, I lower my left arm completely and attack.

And.. so it goes on for a long time. Brash hits me with the sword multiple times, adjusting my position with his hands afterwards. I think he was only trying to find reasons to grope me. My arms start weighing incredibly heavy from the movements. Perhaps I'm exhausting myself too much, moving too fast. But.. I don't care. 

I don't want to fail. I want to train and be able to defend myself. I don't want to rely on anyone anymore, especially not on someone like Brash. All he does is either insult me or objectify me. 

But, thinking about it now.. He **did** try to defend me in front of Jarlan. And, somewhat in front of Mark, but I'm sure he enjoyed ridiculing him anyway. Why can't he just be one way? _Either let me hate you or..._

"Okay, enough with that kid shit." Brash now stands next to the dummy once more. "One more command to keep in mind: Break. When you hear it, drop guard, but keep your attack always ready. Break."

I let my left arm fall down. Quite happy to do that, too. They both feel like they're going to fall off any moment.  
  


"Right. Anyway, we're moving onto postures and stances."

_Gods, it's not over yet? I thought we'd be done soon.._

"The entire thing you've just learned, that's only for a defensive stance. As for offensive stances - there are too many for you to learn, so we'll have to pick one." Staring at me for a moment, Brash seems to be in deep thought. "Having seen you act more natural with swords back, we go for piercing attack stance. Plus, that shit will benefit the most from your speed."

Thinking about his suggestion and then looking at the blades of my shortswords, I ask, "Piercing..? Aren't these weapons too.. wide to pierce anything effectively?"

Brash smiles at my question. Well, he never really smiles, it's more just a mild smirk. "Smart girl. Clearly you've learned something while swallowing Rungari's cock."

Throwing an outraged look at him, I audibly retch at the thought, "I would never do-"

Interrupting me, he continues, "Whatever. I don't have any better weapons for you. The daggers here are fucking disasterous. You should switch the sword in your dominant hand with Rose's dagger. It's much thinner, lighter and allows precise attacks."

_How can he just.. go from making one vile remark back to explaining things? This is so surreal._  
  


Having calmed down, I nod at his suggestion, handing him the shortsword from my right hand back. Crouching down, I pull Rose's dagger out of my boot and grip it tightly in my right hand. Its presence alone offers incredible comfort. Additionally, it feels considerably better to wield.

"Okay, piercing stance. Keep your swords back at all times. Non-dominant arm up, pull your hand next to the other side of your head, blade pointing to your target. Dominant arm stays low, always attack ready. Got it?"

I only manage to open my mouth at hearing the first part of the stance. _What did he even say? Were those.. real words? 'Pull hand to other side of head'. What the hells._

I attempt to do.. whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing. Brash winces at my effort before laughing outloud. Shaking his head lightly, he steps directly to me. Putting his hands on mine, he gently moves them into the proper position.

".. Like this." Quickly stepping away from me again, he continues, "Try attacking the dummy."

At first, I only freeze, thinking about how exactly I should do that. I can't attack effectively with my dominant arm first, only my other arm is ready. Determining that as the likely solution, I try to attack the dummy with my left hand weapon, as quickly as possible.

"Okay, good job." No more mockery or ridicule in his voice. "The whole idea of the piercing stance are quick, precise, and most importantly, consecutive attacks. You lunge at the target with your left, retreat the arm, lunge with your right, retreat, lunge with your left again. With your speed, you should look like a proper maniac." A short laugh.

"I see. I understand it now, Sir."

_Why did I even.. Oh well, he **is** trying to guide me, after all. I assume he's had enough amusement out of my failure.  
_

"..Sure thing, kitten." Irritated exhalation. "Well, that does it for today."  
  


Switching my focus off of attacks and guards, I let my arms fall down. Giving it a thought, I realise I am now wielding the same weapons Rose uses. Two shortswords. She keeps them ready all the time in her thigh bracers. Perhaps that is their actual purpose? I put each weapon in the tight space between the bracers and the outer side of my thigh.

"O-oh, right. So.. tomorrow again? Here?" I ask, watching him expectantly.

Brash frowns and purses his lips. "No. I'm leaving in the morning. You'll be practising alone."

Shocked by the revelation, I spring my eyes open and lift my eyebrows. "Wait, what? Are you.. coming back afterwards?"

Just when I started getting used to his behaviour. Just when we began practicing. Another person is leaving. Even if he's not pleasant to be around, he's the only person I've spent time with in the camp. The thought of being left alone here, having to face Mark once he returns from.. wherever he and Flora went. I suppose I found some demented level of comfort in Brash's savage company.

One of his eyebrows raises. "I need to leave for the day for.. personal reasons. Of course I'll fucking return when I'm done. Nobody else is competent or patient enough to train your fat idiot ass." A laugh breaks his expression.

Whatever his comment was, I sigh in relief anyway. _I won't have to stay alone for long, then. Good._

  
He stops laughing when he notices my reaction. His face turns rather furious, or so I think.

"Sad to see me go?" Brash scoffs sharply. "That's depressing, even for a dead convict girl like you. Want me to fuck that sadness right out of you, whore?" 

_AGH!_ "Of course not! I was only upset you're coming **back** at all!" I exclaim angrily and somewhat loudly as well, crossing my arms on my chest.

Another, softer scoff.

"Yeah, that's just adorable. Well, anything you want to ask before we're done? Any questions?"

_.. **Any** question? He.. didn't specify they need to be training related._

Intrigued by the offer, I let my arms down and think about what to ask. It may only be one question, if he even answers at all. Thankfully, Lord Sorin has given me some practice in that area. Determining the most valuable question is more challenging with Brash, though. Perhaps I should just ask whatever interests me the most, at the moment. That idiotic rumour comes to mind.

"Alright. Question: How did you become a knight?"

Brash's eyes scream surprise. I'm not sure which question he expected, but this one wasn't it. He adjusts his posture and moves some of his hair away from his face. It's just too long. How can he even fight properly like that? I can barely see what I'm doing with my hair all over the place during training. It's becoming a disturbing mess again. Only having my hands to brush it with, impossible tangles are forming.

"The same way Rungari did - A knighting was held." A mischievous smirk.

Giving him an annoyed glare, I cock my head to the side slightly, expressing irritation with his response. 

  
Brash rolls his eyes. " **Fine**. Jarlan recommended me for training. Him and another knight you don't know brought me to see Mace. And after.. proving my capabilities, he decided to knight me. It's a boring fucking story. I don't understand why you'd even ask about it." Brash is giving me a deep look of suspicion. _Maybe I should tell him about the rumour? I don't see a reason not to_.

"I only asked because of a certain rumour I was warned of you by." Brash scoffs once he hears that word. I bet he's heard a fair share of stories about himself, however true.   
  
"Some half-witted idiot must have been scared off by your eye, so they started spreading a rumour that you are a son of a demon and a witch." I laugh mildly as I say it, then shake my head. "How anyone could believe that is beyond me. Demons look nothing like humans."

Brash glares at me in surprise and.. with a hint of fury. "That's the most moronic rumour so far. Do I look like a godsdamned demonspawn? Anyone calls me a goat-boy and I split them in half, regardless of who they are." His voice bears signs of true anger.

_Huh..? Demonspawn? What is that?_

"A.. what?"

He shakes his head at me rapidly, "You don't even know what it is? Fucking hells, you lived with a witch! Did she not teach you anything while you were licking her cunt dry?"

I shut my eyes and cringe hearing what he said. "You know what? I think this is quite enough for today. I'll just.. go."

"Yeah, fuck off. I have shit to do." Brash turns around and walks away in the direction of his and Jarlan's bedrolls. I am somewhat curious as to why they don't have tents, while Mark has one that could house four people at once.

Annoyed at his manic behaviour, I head to my own sleeping area. My body is coming to, I can finally feel just how terribly exhausted I am. Gods. Today was harsh.

And tomorrow I have train alone.  
  



	13. Need for Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brash greets Bright before having to leave for the day. Later, she discovers something about the book a merchant gifted to her. And afterwards, Bright trains alone, honing control over her speed.

When I finally wake up, I am greeted by Jasper. He's holding two bowls of soup in his hands. "I brought you some food in case you were hungry," Jasper says, smiling at me.

I yawn and reach out towards one bowl. "Th..Thank you so much!" I immediately dig in. _Delicious._

"Did you sleep well, Bright? I saw you moving around rather wildly. Bad dream?" Jasper asks, his voice filled with concern. _Was I really? I can't remember dreaming about anything._ Still no Lord Sorin. It's becoming suspicious. Not only his lack of appearance, but my own lack of dreams.

"I'm not sure, honestly." Another yawn. I'm still too tired to focus. "I probably just don't remember any."

When I'm done with my bowl, I open my bag, looking for the book I was given by the merchant. The Inquisitors of Hell. Plenty of pages still remain unread, I should finish the book before returning it back to him.

But, alas, someone interrupts me.

  
"Morning, kitten."

I look up and see Brash standing next to my bedroll. He's all ready to leave, a few bags rest on his shoulder.

"Hello, Sir. Did you need anything before departing?"

He sees the book I'm clutching in my hands. A smug smirk follows. "Yeah. Practise the shit you learned yesterday. Also, try working on your speed, both in movements of limbs and your whole body. You're **still** a slow cunt." 

Raising my eyebrows at the suggestion, I ask, "You mean, try how fast I can run? Outside of the camp? Alone?" I chuckle. "Aren't you afraid I'll run off and never return?" I ask, snickering at the thought. As if I'd ever do that.

He only grins determinedly, "Do what I say and don't run away." Now turning his expression into a dark look. "Or I'll find you and break those pretty, long legs of yours, to make sure you never try again."

I only manage to yawn in response. So sleepy, still.

Brash turns to leave, but remains a moment longer, stopping when he sees me yawn. "And no whoring. I better not hear your ass took all the cocks here while I was gone. Got it?"

I roll my eyes and smile in amusement. "Wow. I'll practise hard, don't worry. And I appreciate your **concern** for my butt."

"No. Whoring. Bitch." Brash seems increasingly irritated.

I exhale, annoyed at his constant insinuation, and respond in a mocking tone, "No whoring, 'Sir'."

"..Good. See you tomorrow. Slut." And he leaves.

  
I only shake my head and examine the cover of the book in front of me, when.. "Bright! My Gods! How can he speak to you like that!" Jasper looks beside himself.

"Huh..? What do you mean?" That question didn't help. He shakes his body even more vigorously.

"What do you mean 'What do I mean'? Those.. words! The names he calls you! He has no honour at all!" Jasper looks like he's about to lose his mind. _Right, that.. I suppose I started filtering them out._

"He doesn't mean most of the things he says. Or.. at least I think so. Actually, maybe he does, sometimes. Either way, Sir Brash is a good instructor and that's.. all that matters."

He taught me well yesterday. Guided me properly, for once. At my own speed. But he's such an incredible fiend and ruffian. I'm not quite sure what exactly to do the whole day without his constant perturbing.  
Of course, Jasper is here, and I guess I could talk to Fisher, but.. There's this level of formality and expected politeness with them. Having none of that between myself and Brash feels surprisingly freeing. I've never had the possibility of cursing someone out without them caring at all. I even feel more alone now, knowing he's not in the camp - however insane that sounds. _Gods, I'm losing my mind, aren't I?_

"Even then.. his words are revolting. He should know to treat a lady with respect." 

I squint angrily at the book. _Why does what Jasper said anger me so much?_ As if I should be lied to, just because I'm a woman. As if I couldn't handle hearing people's true thoughts. That's what.. That's what Mark always did. Hid everything, used me, lied and pretended. A complete coward. I am disgusted even at the thought.

"Don't worry about it, Jasper," I say, attempting to sound calm.

".. As you wish, Bright. I apologise."

_By the Hells._

  
Okay, finally, the book.

The last thing I've read was about the destruction of a singular plane and its rupture into four separate planes. I don't know what became of the Inquisitors, yet. Or the demon lords and their power wars.

I begin reading.

After the conflict's resolution - the rupture - the demon lords responsible each assumed rule over one plane. Having no subjects to torture, as the rupture killed every single living thing in their reality, they turned to human souls. A constant influx of minions. Death is certain, meaning souls will keep coming infinitely.

Eventually, the demon lords figured out a way to direct more souls to their own respective planes. Feeding chosen humans their flesh, they turned them into their servants - acolytes. Training them as their human world Inquisitors. Whoever those acolytes killed, their souls would arrive to that specific demon lord.

The book touches only lightly on the fate of the real Inquisitors, saying it is impossible to tell what became of them. Since they were created as near equals to the demon lords, the probability of them being destroyed is near null. Compared to the turned humans, the true Inquisitors are apparently God-like, both in power and their innate abilities. A complete embodiment of their Hell's temperament, while demonhearts only gain a small portion of it.

  
Before I can read any more, a voice stops me, yet again.

  
"Wait, Bright, where did you get that book from?" Jasper's voice shatters my train of thought.

"The merchant. He offered it as a gift since I had no gold on me. He said I could keep it, but I mean to return it anyway."

Jasper's eyes widen, flashing in horror. "What?! No, Bright.. No, no, no. You need to return it to him before anything happens!"

I stare at him, confused. "What would happen? It was a gift-"

" **That's** the problem! His items are cursed! You see the gray rose?" Jasper points to the cover of the book. "All his items bear it, it's an enchantment against thieves. It doesn't matter whether he gave it willingly or not. You didn't pay for it, meaning the enchantment must still be active!" Jasper is panicking. He's starting to get me worried, too.

"Wh-What does it do..?" I ask, eyeing the cover in the meantime.

"Different things. I've heard some can even kill the item's bearer! Please, Bright, return it immediately!" Jasper pleads with me.

"Gods! What the hells is this! Of course, I'm going right now." I spring up, holding the book in my hands, only managing to grab my bag before running off.

  
I spot the tent the merchant came out of before, so I run towards it. I can see the man nearby, he doesn't know I'm approaching, yet. When I'm near enough, I almost yell, "You gave me a cursed book! How dare you! I was always going to return it!"

Panicked, he looks around first, as if to see if anyone else is nearby. "I don't want it! It's yours! Go away!"

I shake my head, infuriated. "I know about the enchantment! I haven't the gold to pay you, so just take it-"

The merchant cuts me off, "It has been paid for already! Right after you left, he came here and threatened me into accepting. The book is yours, just leave already!"

Looking at him confused, I ask, "What the hells are you talking about? Who paid for it?"

He seems unsure whether I'm serious or not, but something haunts him. "The.. knight. The cursed knight. I don't know his name! He nearly killed me when he learned about what happened." _..Brash paid for my book? What.. How am I supposed to repay **him** now?_

"Please, miss, I beg you, leave before he sees me talking to you again!" The merchant is now on his knees, begging me to go. _He must have not seen Brash depart from the camp. I guess I'm keeping the book, after all._

"Fine, I'm leaving." Without any other word, I walk away in the direction of the eastern rocky clearing.  
 _  
What a bizarre turn of events._

_***_

I don't want to train in the Scarcewall part of the camp today. Without the authority of Brash, I doubt a lot of their soldiers would behave. I decide to head to the clearing again. It's secluded and I know the area. I can also finally see how fast I can truly run, knowing I have demonic speed supporting me.

When I reach the clearing, I see the table has not been moved. Good. I put the bag on it and pull my weapons out. A shortsword and Rose's dagger.

First, I try remembering and executing all the commands Brash taught me yesterday.

Guard. Low-guard. High-guard. Attack. Break. Attack stance.

 _Alright, I seem to recall them all_. Since there are no dummies here, I train while attacking a tree stump. The one Flora was pushed against by Jarlan. It seems so long ago, yet it's still such a vivid memory.

Guard attacks are fairly easy once I figured them out. Trying to attack in the piercing stance seems much more complicated. I'm not sure how exactly to move my feet. Brash said it's all about quick and precise, consecutive attacks. Now lunging only at the air, away from the stump, I see how much time I spend only on moving during the attacks. I'll need to ask him tomorrow to show me how to step correctly.

Now, my speed. The hard part. I've only ever been pushed into using it by anger. It's vital I learn how to control it at will.

Hiding the weapons in my thigh bracers, I try running as fast as I can against one of the rock walls. It's a failed attempt. Recalling how fast I reached Jarlan here before, had I ran this slowly, Brash would have caught me effortlessly.

I try again.   
And again.   
Over and over.  
Failing every single time.

  
Without any emotional catalysts, it seems my endeavour is hopeless. Perhaps I should think about something horrifying..? Something infuriating?

Breathing in deeply, I look for a memory I could use. 

I think back to the time I had to spend in prison. Bold's torment and threats. My severe hopelessness.

Running again, I see an improvement. Still incredibly slow in comparison, though.

Instead, then, I think back to how Mark treated me. His betrayal. The knighting. The prison visit.

Running again - a massive improvement. Nearly there. 

Lastly, I think.. About Sybil. Her lies and deceit. How she killed her sister. Her psychopathy. How she tried to blame Brash and Jarlan. Her escaping justice.

  
That does it. 

  
I flew right through the entire clearing. Perhaps even faster than I had anticipated.

The thought of her walking free, while her sister hasn't been avenged. Sybil has gone unpunished properly. Bold suffered for his crimes, Mark was humiliated repeatedly, but Sybil.. she's likely living free in Ravage now.

The thought burns in my mind. 

A newfound level of determination.

My fingers tremble in pure rage.

A total passion for equity.

  
A thought occurs. _Ravage isn't far away from here._ _A day's journey._ _I could make it._ _She needs to pay._ _Sybil needs to get what she deserves._

  
But.. the question.

"What are you willing to do to reach your goal?"

Am I truly going to abandon my future in the process? If I were to run, my pardon would be lifted. No more future. And when caught, straight back to prison. Forever. No more chances.

"Will you forsake others in order to achieve true justice?"

I cannot abandon the mission. No. But.. she needs to be punished justly. Maybe I could ask Brash to take me to Ravage to find her? He **is** a law officer, after all. Shouldn't he also care about seeing her pay? But I told him she went to Ravage. This whole time, he knows. This whole time, he doesn't care. I doubt he'd take me anywhere close if I mentioned it. He'd most likely try to avoid the place entirely.

I suppose the question is **:** 'How can I stay to not compromise the mission and my future, while also finding a way in which Sybil gets punished?'

Perhaps.. when the mission is over. Perhaps then I could make sure she pays. More training, more preparation. That could work. I doubt there is any other real option for me, anyway.

That settles it.

  
I run through the forest a bit more, powered by the need to see just punishment.

So fast.

So incredibly fast.

  
Now, back at the clearing, I practise that speed with only my limbs.  
  
Stabbing the air furiously.  
  
Repeatedly.  
  
The speed remains.  
  
I slice the air unwaveringly.  
  
Whooshing sounds ring through the place.  
  
I can nearly see the air parting in front of me.

_  
I did it..!_

  
But I may have overdone it. My endurance is quite clearly not very high. Different body parts start screaming out in pain and exhaustion. _Wait.. I spent hours training here already?_ _What the hells! It feels like I just got here. Gods._

Putting Rose's dagger in my boot and the shortsword back into the bag, I see.. the book again. _Brash. Brash paid for it_. He didn't even say anything. What am I supposed to give him in return? The book must have been expensive, it is rather big and old. And I've never seen a copy of it before anywhere. 

_Fuck._ Well.. I'll hopefully figure something out tomorrow. Maybe.. I could give him the book..? He **did** buy it, technically. But I don't think he's the reading type.

With my bag back on my shoulder, I walk to the camp. I consider running, but if anyone sees my speed, it won't end very well.

***

Jasper jumps up from his bedroll when he sees me. "Gods, Bright! I was worried! Did anything happen with the merchant?"

I smile, thinking about what I found out. "Everything is okay. He.. took the enchantment off. I'm safe, don't worry."

A deep exhale. "Thank Gods for that!"

_Not the Gods' doing._

"..I brought some soup. Want to have a bowl?" I think about this offer for a moment. Knowing I could have owed something to that merchant, without being told anything.. It makes these kind gestures seem more suspicious than they probably are.

"No, that's alright. I think I'll just go to sleep directly. I'm exhausted," I say while offering a polite smile.

"Of course! Oh, by the way, this is Tounnes," Jasper says, pointing to a young man occupying a bedroll next to his. Long black hair, bow in one hand, Feline coloured armor.

"Welcome, convict girl," Tounnes says dispassionately.

I glance at Jasper before responding sarcastically, "Thank you for such a.. warm greeting!"

Jasper is visibly uncomfortable, he laughs to lift the mood. "Oh Tounnes! You just have **no breaks** , do you!" Tounnes looks at him, uncertain of what Jasper means.

  
I'm done.

That display of speed truly exhausted me. And knowing Brash, tomorrow's training will only be more difficult than the first. 

"I'll just go to sleep right away. Good night, everyone," I say as I place my head on the bag once more, clutching it tightly in my hands.

My eyes close.

"Good night, convi-" 

A sound of an impact. I assume Jasper hit Tounnes.

"Sleep well, Bright."  
  



	14. Dreaming of Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nightmare returns but with a different outcome. Lord Sorin appears and tells the full tale of Hells and Inquisitors.

I sit down on the ground and examine the pamplet in my hands, choosing what meal and drink to order. No voices can be heard. No people are around. The inn is completely empty.

"Can ye see how full the inn is?" Sybil asks with her fake accent. She's sitting right in front of me. Wearing her blonde wig and with a hood on, she looks just like she did in that alley. One of her hands is hiding her mouth, while the other's fingers tap on her thigh.

"How fun!" A young lady sits next to her. I've never seen her before. She looks awfully like me. Younger, more innocent. Smiling at both me and Sybil, excited about life, excited about the inn. Looking around, she keeps pointing to various decorations and saying, "My! I've truly never seen anything like that. Very exquisite!"

She reminds me of myself. Back when days were simpler. Back when life seemed uncomplicated. Back when everything still looked hopeful.

Browsing the menu, I try to find some options we might enjoy eating. "How about we order three of 'Killer's Madness' and a bottle of wine?" I ask them, still with my head searching through the pamplet.

Humming a tune I've heard twice before, Sybil nearly sings her response, "Wine? Is there anythin' to celebrate?"

The young girl says, "I-I've never drank liquor before. But I know what kind of a maniac it turns my sister into!" She begins laughing and teasing Sybil with a soft push to her arm.

A scoff. "Maniac? I'll show ye just how manic I can truly be. It's not like this whore will try to stop me, anyway."

Shocked, I move my eyes from the pamplet and look at Sybil. Her face is splattered with blood, she's giving me a disturbing look. The hand previously tapping her thigh is now instead holding a dagger, she stabbed its blade into the girl's stomach. Her sister.

The girl's screams fill the room, Sybil keeps thrusting the blade into her torso, repeatedly. Over and over. Piercing her body through and through. "Bright! Help me! Why won't you help me?! I thought you cared!"

Realising what's going on, I jump from where I am sitting towards Sybil, trying to stop her. I fly right through and fall on the floor.

Sybil laughs ferociously. "Ye can't stop it. She's long gone. Long dead. By the hands of the only person she's ever trusted. Just like ye did. And will again. Over and over, until ye die for good."

The girl's body becomes torn open completely. All this stabbing and piercing..

_This nightmare. I need to make it stop. It's **my** fucking head, I need to stop this, already!_

Focusing all of my mind into leaving this place, waking up, or anything else that would stop this, I close my eyes and think about different things. 

I can still hear the stabbing.

Different places. 

I can still hear Sybil's laughter.

People. 

I can still picture the girl's body.

Events. 

I can still hear her screams.

Memories.

I can still feel my own helplessness.

  
I force my eyes open. It's time to take control for once.

Getting up from the ground, I walk over to Sybil. She looks at me curiously.

_I can make anything real here. It's my own head. If I focus enough..._

I reach out to her neck.

_..I know it will happen._

I grab her. I feel her, as if she were here. Sybil looks terrified, seeing what I'm doing.

While she's stunned, I take the dagger from her. By the blade. It doesn't hurt me, it's not real after all.

Pushing her to a wall, I twist the dagger blade front and stab her in the throat. Shaking her entire body, I watch as blood pours out.

And.. there she goes. Her body turns to dust. It's gone. She's gone from my nightmare.

The girl is still lying on the floor. Still dead. I can't change her fate. Her body dissolves into the floor.

I shut my eyes and sigh. 

This nightmare turns increasingly horrifying with each iteration.

  
Flash.

Bang.

  
I turn around to see where it came from, facing the empty inn again. The demon lord stands where our table would usually be located.

"Curious solution, acolyte." With a probing look, he examines the dagger I'm holding. "Taking control, I see. Very good, even if it only applies to your dreams. You have to start somewhere, I assume." A pitiful grin.

"Why haven't you come to me in the past nights? I had questions. Now I only get one for who knows how long," I ask Lord Sorin, defiantly staring right in his eyes.

He squints at me. "You might be special, but I have other acolytes, as well. Don't be jealous, now." A scoff.

I exhale in ridicule. _Jealous? Hardly._ If this encounter could be avoided completely, I would choose that option instead. But I won't get any answers that way. There are still so many questions, and he seems to be the only one willing to give answers.

Eyeing him determinedly, I finally ask my question: "Can you tell me about the Inquisitors? Lim, Nevon, Kanaz and Mors. Their purposes **before** the rupture. I'm aware that they served you and three other demon overlords after it, but.. what about before the creation of Hells?"

Furious look dominates his face. "I see you have been busy reading that disgusting book. And here I thought we burned them all." Lord Sorin spits to the ground. Not just any normal spit. Fiery lava melts the ground where it hit. Disturbing.

"..It is your wish to know the history. Very well then."

I expect him to start drawing symbols again, but instead, he faces his palms towards the floor. And soon, the entire scene of the dream starts changing. From the inn, we're now located on a hellish, red plane. No sky. Stone instead. Black plants. White castles.

  
"This is what the Inferno used to look like. Inferno was our home. Born, raised, trained and killed for our flesh. Gods used to live here. Made us their slaves. Until me and the others - the other three demon overlords - rose up. They foolishly trained us too well. Made us too powerful. And in the end, they all died."

He twists his wrist. The scene changes again, only slightly. Instead of the white castles, white ruins.

"Moving through the entire plane, we freed slaves. Demonic and others. They saw us as their saviours. Their new Gods. But there never was enough space for us all. Four new Gods, all hungering for power. Each time servants bowed down and prayed to us, we became more arrogant."

Another twist. Another change, more noticable this time. The red land appears crushed. The black plants torn.

"Clawing for more attention, more priests and believers, each of us tried to prove just how powerful we were. Each of us created a near-equal servant. An Inquisitor of our own, their purpose lying in proving our godliness to servants."

Something troubles him. He's most likely had hundreds, if not thousands of years to reflect on this. I suppose the outcome of the entire situation was not as expected.

"Lord Vytautas created Lim. A man of such conviction, such ambition, such ability to lead. A general worthy of holy battles. A commander admired by all soldiers. Lord Kira created Nevon. A warrior, a true fighter. Desiring only to defend and protect all servants. Teach them how to become powerful. His ability to inspire confidence and bravery knew no match." A taunting chuckle. "Of course, you already know all of this."

_Why would I even ask if I knew any of it. The book doesn't go into this much detail. I must have missed something in it._

"Moving on. Lord Herma-Mora created Kanaz. Hers was the ability to keep peace without battle. Find common reasons to fight. Push and train our servants to resist temptation. Resist self-destruction. And lastly, me. I created the embodiment of Death in Mors. One who 'kicks its way into the hovels of the poor and the towers of kings equally'. The perfect judge."

Four different shapes now appear behind Lord Sorin. Two men, a woman and.. a being of a constantly changing shape. Most times resembling a woman, other times a man or a child.

"Our intentions with creating them might have been selfish, but these four were selfless wholly. Working together, the three lead, trained and inspired, while Mors served as the judicator. Together, they made our people strong."

A complete twist, now of his entire hand. The scene changes to a desolate, colourless plane. Servants lying dead. Bodies of demons, humans and animals. All the same fates.

"While they were doing what they were created for, me and the others fought viciously. At first with words. Slowly, our hate grew stronger. And one day, we warred. Perhaps we didn't realise the war's severity at the time. Our people divided. Following different lords, they fought in our names."

Another change of scene. A battle-field. The ground below us split into four, the dead bodies incinerate in an explosion.

"There was no coming back. Using all of our powers against each other, we tore the world apart. Each of us got one plane to rule over. But we killed our subjects in the process. The Inquisitors never took part in the war. And once they witnessed what we have done, they turned on us. Rebelled."

A vicious scoff. 

"They couldn't kill their creators. But neither could we kill them. A part of us was left in them during their creation. So we simply.. adjusted their purposes."

New scene. A demon lair, similar to the one I woke up in after my execution. No fire or bodies. Only deadly aura.

"Their personalities became twisted as a result. Lim turned into a ruthless commander. Nevon into a bloodthirsty murderer. Kanaz into a wretch desiring misery. And Mors.. I had to banish it entirely. It would never stop until it saw me punished."

_It **does** sound like a deserved fate for someone partially responsible for a world-wide genocide._

  
"That's why I cannot wait to see you become my new Mors. A better, wiser Mors. One who can truly see what's just."

I scream out, having heard enough of all the cruelty, "What? How is your death not justified? All those living beings torn to pieces, by a conflict they didn't need?"

Gritting his teeth at me, he responds, "I know you will come to see things **my** way. It won't be long, now. And, thus, your question has been answered."

_Why the hells is it so important I become this.. thing he suggests? Knowing how much suffering his, and the other lord's, hunger for power caused.. I would never serve him in his endeavour._

"Leave, now. Ponder your fate. We will only speak once more before your path begins."

I furrow my eyebrows, "Huh? Why would-"

"Wake up," Lord Sorin says, staring at me.

"Wh-"

"WAKE UP!"

  
I awake.  
  



	15. Burning Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second time training with Brash, but something goes very wrong.

"I said, wake the fuck up!" A voice interrupts my sleep. Slowly opening my eyes, adjusting to the light, I look around.

"Eat up and go east. We train hard today."  
  
Brash.

"..Gh.. Okay.." I mumble out, yawning.

Heavy steps announce his departure.

_Gods..damn._

I have no time to waste, but I don't want to forget what Lord Sorin told me. I'll only quickly write some things down.

Opening my bag, I grab the journal and with the feather and ink, I begin writing.

\------  
 **Journal Entry #4  
** Another inn dream. Sybil appeared again, this time with her sister. I finally took over and stopped her. Hopefully, she will not appear again. Lord Sorin spoke of the history of Inferno, his home plane. After rising up to its Gods, him and three others broke free. Freeing slaves. Proclaimed as the new Gods. This lead to them each creating their own Inquisitor.  
  
Lord Vytautas - Lim  
Lord Kira - Nevon  
Lord Herma-Mora - Kanaz  
Lord Sorin - Mors

They were initially the exact opposite of what they are described as. Once the lords' power wars lead to the destruction of everything, the Inquisitors rebelled. Unable to defeat their creators, their personalities were mutilated. Only Mors, who could not be swayed, had to be banished entirely. From what he said, it had every reason not to obey. I feel sorry for it, whatever 'it' even is.  
\------

And I ran out of ink. I hope I have important things written down. Who knows how long it will take to find a new vial. Closing the journal, I stuff it back in the bag and throw it on my shoulder.

_Right, Brash said to eat up and that training will be hard. I'm honestly worried. I can still feel my limbs tired from yesterday. I **did** push myself rather far._

Making my way to the cooking fire, I notice Fisher once more. I try to ignore him while preparing the ingredients for two soups. I'm making a large portion for Brash. I need to thank him for the payment of the book. I cannot have any more debts hanging over my head. A soup isn't enough, but it's a start.

  
"Hello, child. How is your training going?" _Godsdamnit. I hoped he'd just leave me be._ The last conversation we had was about the rumour. Truly disappointing to see him believe everything with no proof.

"Morning, sir. It's dificult, obviously, but I'm trying my best." I give him a polite smile.

"Glad to hear that. Is Sir Brash treating you well? I overheard him yelling at you during training," Fisher asks, clearly worried about me. _Well, he sort of **had** to. I wouldn't have used my ability otherwise. Hopefully, my own practice from yesterday will come in handy._

"No need to worry. He is a brute, but also a good instructor. I already feel like I've learned a lot," I say while mixing the ingredients inside the pot. I nearly used all of the venison available.

"Very well, child. I only meant to say.. he called you some disturbing words earlier today."

I look up, intrigued to know more. "Let me guess, 'whore', 'slut' and the like?" I chuckle.

Fisher looks stunned at hearing my response. Clearing his throat, he elaborates, "Well.. yes, among other things. He also said that.. you think you're tough but he could take you anytime. That you're just another.. 'loose lady', one who doesn't deserve to be paid for.. 'her services'. And that you'd eat out of his palm if he commanded you."

I stop mixing and open my mouth slightly.

I sure feel like a total moron. Thinking he deserves to be thanked when he's such a crude piece of shit. He might have only paid for the book so he could use it against me at some point. _Fucking..._ Whatever. I'm already making it. He can have it and then spill it.

"Thank you for telling me. I'll be sure to keep that in mind," I growl as I pour the soup in two bowls. One smaller and one bigger.

"Of course. Be careful!" he warns me one last time.

"I will be."

I eat my meal before leaving for the clearing.

***

The big soup bowl is hard to carry steadily throughout the whole journey, but I finally arrive. Brash's back is turned to me. Just like the first time we came here. Examining all kinds of weapons on the table. Still angered by the discovery of his comments, I decide to just blurt everything out at once.

"I made you soup. Don't say anything about it. It's a thanks for the book."

Brash can't even turn in time before I'm finished. Now facing me, he stares at the bowl for a while, then back at me. "Forget it. I don't want anything for it, girl. Eat it yourself."

I'm even more angered by his not accepting it.  
  
" **NO!** " I continue resolutely, "Do whatever you want with it. Leave it, if you wish. I do not want to owe you anything." Losing my temper, I start barking out, instead, "But who cares anyway, right? You only need command me and I'll make another, apparently!"

At first surprised, Brash seems completely confused by my exasperation. Quickly, his expression turns to amusement. "So cute when you purr for me like that," Brash chuckles. "Whatever. Put the bowl somewhere, then."

Placing the bowl on a nearby tree stump, I add, "Don't expect me to feed you again, bastard. Not all of us are willing to eat out of each other's palms."

Raising his eyebrows at my comment, he then laughs. "You heard me? I guess you're not fucking deaf after all."

I can't help but keep getting angrier. Training needs to begin **soon** , I might just explode. "How the fuck is my shit still getting to you? I almost thought you got used to it. But you're just as pathetic as you were when you left prison."

Fucking Gods. No encouragement. How did he even manage to properly train any soldiers in the past? It's a wonder nobody tried to kill him, yet. Or, maybe they did, but the tables turned.

  
I open my bag and pull the shortsword out, following with Rose's dagger from my boot. I let the bag fall to the ground. Through sheer willpower I manage to say, "Let's. Just. Train. Already," all the while trembling with anger.

Brash looks at my expression and movements. He exclaims, "No. First, calm the fuck down. I need to see you go on your own, not off of your temporary anger."

Waving the weapons around, I nearly yell, "Well, how the fuck am I supposed to do that!"

"How the fuck would **I** know! Figure it out!"

Glaring at me expectantly, he doesn't make any move. He's waiting for me to calm down.

 _Fucking absolute... AGH. The fact that he's got a point only makes it so much worse._ I don't know how to calm down. Counting steps used to help me. I haven't done it since the execution. It sure won't help now. I doubt it will ever help again.

  
Needing to discover a way of calming down, I start breathing in and out. First, I need to stop the hyperventilation. I even sit down on the ground to focus on it properly.

Inhale and exhale. Deep breaths. I feel pieces of anger leave me each time I breathe out.

_Why am I angry at all? He always makes remarks like that. Every single day. Yet, somehow, they got to me in the morning._

I breathe in. I breathe out.

_I shouldn't care what he thinks or says. It's all because of the godsdamned book! Hearing what he said about me from Fisher, even after doing something like that. Nothing makes sense._

I breathe in and out again.

_But, then again, who knows what the enchantment could have done. Maybe take over my mind. Drive me insane. Perhaps kill me. That would definitely stop our training for good._

I breathe in.

_All that matters is the training. I don't have to like him to train with him. Even if I was beginning to, in a way._

I get up. 

I breathe out.

"I'm better now."

  
Eyeing me suspiciously at first, he relaxes. "Good. Now show me the basic commands you learned during our first training, if you remember them at all."

He approaches me to watch my moves and steps closely.  
  
I stand firmly, widen my stance and execute multiple guards, guard attacks, basic attacks combined with breaks.

Over and over.

"Now attack stance, and show me some attacks."

I take the piercing attack stance and attempt a few consecutive attacks. It is somewhat similar to the guard stance, so switching is quite simple. It's the attacks that are problematic. I can feel how much time I'm wasting on taking the wrong steps. I just have no idea how to do it correctly.

Brash bursts out laughing when he sees me. "Fucking hells, kitten. You're moving your ass more violently than if I were fucking you in it. No need to show it off so much, I know **exactly** where it is."

_..Breathe._

I inhale. "Can you show me how to do it properly?" I exhale.

A chuckle. "What, how to get fucked properly?" A perverted sneer spreads on his face. "Move your ass here and I'll show you."

 _Ghhh._ Through gritted teeth, I say as calmly as possible, " **No** , how to **move** properly during the attacks. I know I'm doing it wrong, but I don't know how else to do it."

Rolling his eyes, he describes the correct footwork. "Your ass stays in the same position. Move in a straight line to your side. Don't flail around so wildly. One leg crosses the other, carefully, so you don't fucking trip on it."  
  


_What._

  
I look at him, confused. Swiftly, I attempt to follow his depiction of the proper movements. I end up walking awkwardly in a straight line.

Brash exhales in frustration. "Fuck's sake, girl. Come here."

  
I return to him. When he's able, he grabs me by my arm, turns me around and pulls my back to his chest. Now he's also holding my right side with his hand.

_Uhhh..._

"We move together. To the left. It's your non-dominant side, that one comes first. Always. Got it?"

I nod.

He starts moving me to the left by pushing my side with his hand. We're moving sideways, left side facing the direction.

"Your footwork needs to be stable. Constant. Always aware of the other leg's position. Like fucking dancing. Quick, half-circle motions towards the direction you're heading. Got it?"

I'm not sure, but I nod anyway.

He always moves with me, the same exact way. Right behind me with every step. I move my left foot, then my right over the left. Then my left below my right. _Half-circles_.

"And now the attacks. Don't turn your torso at all. Just move in the same direction." Brash moves his arms so he is now holding mine in his hands. "I'll do the attacks for you. You take care of moving. Got it?"

I nod.

I start taking steps the same way we did before. His hands move my arms for me. First, attacking the air with my left, retreating it back, then my right hand, retreating again, and so on.

"Now do it all on your own."

I nod and start doing everything at once. Brash still presses on my back, following my steps, making sure to fix my posture meanwhile.

"Good job, kitten. You're still moving your ass too much. It will get you in trouble." And before ending this **strictly educational** embrace, he slaps my butt.

  
I take a giant step forward, turning around to shout and throw him a furious glare, but.. It appears there is someone behind him. Our backs were turned to that side the whole time. Someone was watching us during that entire thing. Shocked, not expecting any audience, I'm staring at the person watching. I can't see them clearly, they're hidden in a rock's shadow.

Brash sees my look and turns around to find out what startled me.

"Well, well, well. I heard ye were trainin', not fuckin'!" An amused laugh. I exhale. _It's only Jarlan. Thank Gods_. I wouldn't know how to react if it were anyone else.

"Yeah, fucking hilarious. The fuck do you want? I thought you couldn't care less about her training." Brash sounds annoyed, but maybe that's just by default when he swears.

"Sure I don't, but I wanted to see what ye two were up to. And ye were almost up 'er ass!" Another laugh. 

I only glare at them both. _What a meaningful conversation_.

"Can we, please, go back to training..?" I ask Jarlan, but it probably sounds like a question for Brash.

Jarlan responds anyway, "Trainin'? That was no trainin', that was fuckin' art! Two lil' dancers!" A deep, lungful laugh.

I frown and then, looking at Brash, I say, "I think I figured out how to control my speed. I could do it without anger yesterday."

Raising his eyebrows in anticipation, he nods. "Show me fast guard attacks, then."

I step further away from him. Jarlan has, in the meantime, closed the distance. He means to watch the display. 

  
I close my eyes and slowly breathe in.

Thinking about Sybil did it yesterday.

I breathe out.

Raising my left arm, I still keep my eyes closed.

I take high-guard.

And..

I open my eyes.

Attack.

Again. 

Low-guard. 

Again. 

High-guard.

Again. 

Over and over.

Various combinations.

I can feel my arms flying through the air with such lightness.

No barriers anymore.

A complete freedom of movement.

  
I think that's enough for now. I still need to do it with the attack stance. Better save up energy.

I look at Jarlan and Brash. They're standing next to each other.

"Shit! What tha fuck was tha', lass?" Jarlan isn't laughing anymore, he's shocked at my speed, I suppose. Seeing his reaction, I drop my gaze to the ground and start smiling. _I really did it, huh?_ For once, I feel like I succeeded. Like the work I did finally paid off.

I lift my gaze up again, Jarlan is still recovering. Brash looks concerned, somehow.

_Shouldn't he be glad I finally managed to control my speed..?_

"Did I.. do it wrong?" I ask him, inquiring into his expression.

"Attack stance. Fast." He doesn't even answer. Jarlan looks at him, worried for the first time.

_What the hells is happening? I thought I did it right. Something is bothering them both._

"Sir, what-"

"I said fucking attack stance, whore. **Do it** ," Brash lashes out loudly.

Shocked by his response, I shake my head and take the attack stance.

  
I breathe in.

Attack.

Same steps Brash showed me.

Attack.

Attack.

Again.

Again.

I think I'm moving correctly.

Further and further through the clearing, until I reach the other side of it.

I exhale deeply before returning to them again.

"Well..? How did I do?" I ask, now waiting for an answer from either of them. 

Nothing. Silence. It feels like an eternity.

_Why are they not saying anything? I'm starting to worry._

  
"Fuck, she's fast!" Jarlan finally yells out.

"Yeah. For a slow cunt, she's fast," Brash follows up with a straight face again.

_At last, they finally said something!_

"You think.. I could be even faster?" I ask, trying to get Brash to compliment my efforts.

He appears in thought for a moment. "Of course. You'll see just **how** fast you'll ride me."

A laugh from both of them. I turn my gaze up and roll my eyes. _Well, I shouldn't have even bothered, honestly._

"'Kay, I seen enough. Good luck with yer cat," Jarlan says as he leaves.

  
Silence.  
  
  
Brash waits until we're alone again to continue our training.

"You did well, kitten. Glad you didn't waste your entire day fucking those two Feline pussies," Brash scoffs and heads towards the table again. I only sigh. I suppose that's as good a compliment as I could have hoped for. I wonder if he waited for Jarlan to leave before saying anything.

  
"Now, the real training. This one **will** hurt."

My eyes widen. Oh Gods. I've got to stay calm. Breathe. It might all be okay.

_Just breathe._

Brash picks up a shortsword from the table. He never uses his own greatsword. I guess having to practise against that would end horribly. While approaching me, he explains, "You'll learn how to apply your guard stance today. And I will test your speed and endurance. You need to endure a lot of shit, battles don't last five seconds."

I prepare my weapons into a guard as Brash nears with a readied sword.

"I said before that your guard helps you deflect attacks. There is a giant fucking difference between defending and deflecting. So, try to deflect my attack!"

Brash swings his sword at my head. I raise my guard and stop the attack but.. He's too strong. His push is too powerful. And in the end, I am shoved all the way to the ground.

Looking at me, disappointed, he growls, "I said **deflect** , not fucking defend. Use your speed to redirect my attack. Think you can figure out how?"

  
I get up.

_Redirect.. With my speed? As in.. move away?_

I guard up.

  
Brash swings again. This time, I move away to the side, but his attack still lands in my guard. However hard I try to push back, I fall down anyway.

Visibly frustrated, he sneers, "De- **fucking** -flect. Are you deaf or just dumb? Stop trying to push against my attack! I'm stronger. Use your speed. Guide my sword away from you, but not against the direction I'm swinging in! Push it to the side!"

  
I get up again. 

_Godsdamn, I really feel like an complete idiot._

I guard up again.

  
Brash swings more viciously this time.

I move to the side slightly to gain a better angle with my guard, then ram it into his sword with my speed.

A deflection.

  
"Fucking finally!" he says, shaking his head. "I want to see your limbs move, now." Brash walks over to my side. "Hide the weapons. Extend your arms in front of you, palms up."

So I do. 

"I'll swing at your palms with my sword."

Shocked, I return my arms and stare at him in disbelief.

He snickers. "Not with the fucking edges, of course. It will still hurt if you don't move away. You won't lose any fingers, though. Not that you would, anyway - they'd return, just like your pretty little head did."

Frowning, I return my arms to position and watch Brash as he prepares to swing.

He's charging, but still nothing, as if to provoke a premature reaction.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Swing.

"FUCK-"

I didn't act in time.

A mocking laugh. "Try harder."

I put my arms back.

Nothing.

Swing.

I did it in time.

  
"Good. Okay, moving onto your entire upper body. I know how fast you are, now. Meaning I know you'll be able to do this."

_Do.. what..?_

"I'll swing for your chest. I want you to bend forward before I can hit you."

Shocked and terrified at the suggestion, I scream, " **WHAT**?! You're insane! I can't possibly do **that**!"

Squinting at me, he asks emotionlessly, "Why not?"

 _What an idiotic question!_ "I am not fast enough for that!"

"You're faster than anyone I've ever fucking seen. You can do it," Brash exclaims resolutely.

_Wha-_

"You really.. mean that? You believe I can dodge an attack like that?" I ask shakily.

"Depends, do you trust me?"

"I.. think so."

Annoyed, nearly embarrassed by my answer, he says, "Wrong. **Always** say no. I'll ask you again later. Better answer correctly."

I roll my eyes. "Okay, well, I'm willing to try it. Just.. don't kill me, please?" I chuckle nervously.

A smirk, "I can't promise anything, kitten."

He readies his sword.  
  


_Okay, watch for the blade. It will come in quickly. And.. if I don't think I can dodge it, I can always just drop to the ground, right? If.. I'm fast enough._

No, don't think like that. You **are** fast enough. You can do this!

I breathe in and prepare myself to bend down when the time comes.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Still holding his sword back, tempting me into a reaction.

Nothing.

Swing.

Here it comes. I bend as far down as possible, but seeing how low he's swinging.. I have to spread my legs wider to allow for faster descent.

And.. it's over.

I get back up, looking over my armor.  
  


It's.. whole!

"I.. did it?"

He smirks, satisfied with my efforts, "You sure fucking did. Good job."

I laugh a little and jump in celebration, arms up in the air in victory. "Yay! I was honestly worried."

Another success.

They don't come to me very often, but today has been very giving already. Even though it started rather shaky, I'm happy with the results.

  
"Okay, one more thing and we're done for the day. The endurance test."

I breathe out sharply, trying to calm down.

"Come here." Brash leads me by my hand, stopping next to the tree stump where I put the soup. It's probably already cold. Food wasted.

"Pull your weapons out and hold them, then extend your arms to the sides," Brash says while sitting down on the stump. I'm a few feet away from him. He's holding the soup in his hands, examining it.

"What do I do now?" I ask, watching him for a reaction.

"You do nothing. That's the whole point. You'll watch me eat while your arms burn in pain," he laughs viciously.

_Right. Endurance._

  
It doesn't take very long to feel my arms hurt. We've already spent some time training. And with the weapons in my hands, the added weight is only multiplied by their distance from my shoulders.

I can do it. I will last.

I won't give up.

"Turn your palms down," Brash says while eating.

I do.

 _Oh FUCK._ It hurts even more. What I can recall from anatomy with Orchid, it's because of the different muscles in your arms. Moving the palms must have switched the responsible muscle.

I shut my eyes and frown in pain.

"You can give up any time, kitten. I won't be mad. It's exactly what I expect, anyway." I hear him laugh under his breath. Still eating.

_  
Bastard. Absolute fucking bastard._

The pain is getting worse faster in this position.

But..

I won't give up.

I shut my eyes even harder.

I'm staying like this until it's enough.

"You're really going to try this hard? That's almost sad." I hear him getting up. The bowl impacts with the stump.

I try to answer through the pain. "I won't stop.. until it's enough."

A deep sigh comes from somewhere in front of me. I don't have the strength to open my eyes, let alone focus on it.

"Turn palms up again."

I turn them. Gods. So much better. Still painful, but.. better.

"So.. you really won't give up? You're just.. waiting for my command, huh?" A chuckle. 

I remember what Fisher said in the morning. Brash's comment about me being obedient on command. _Oh I really want to stop now. Really, really badly. But this isn't about Brash. It's about **me**. If I give up every time he taunts me, I'll never achieve anything._

"Shut. It. Just tell me when.. I'm done."

Brash laughs. Cheekily. Mischievously. He's up to something.

I hear him walking around me in circles.

Something touches my leg. I have to open my eyes to see, whatever the pain may be.

A sword!

He's dragging it up to my stomach.

My arms hurt so much more with eyes open.

  
"Don't-"

"Then give up."

  
I exhale through my nose. I don't stop.

Neither does he. While walking around me, the sword turns with him. Threatening with its presence. Grazing my skin, aiming to cause distress.

"You really shouldn't let me do all of this. It sends the wrong message, kitty girl," Brash's voice sounds incredibly close. I frown even more violently than before.

Just a bit more.

I'll stop soon, even if he doesn't tell me to.

My arms might just fall off.

"Such a good girl, obeying everything I say."

Another laugh, I can nearly feel it in my hair.

I growl at him.

He swings the sword and slaps my butt with it.

"Break. You're done. Good job."

  
I drop my arms down immediately. Actually, I drop down completely.

I did it. I lasted through all that pain, taunting and torment.

_Phew._

So many successes today. I'm.. quite happy with myself.

I smile, thinking about how far I've come over the past few days. 

I get up.

Brash is already heading back to the camp without a word. Not waiting for me to recover. _Ass_.

I grab my bag lying near the stump and begin walking in the direction of the camp. But..

  
My eyes.. My vision is turning blurry, hazy. Something is wrong. I feel incredibly warm all of a sudden. At first I thought it was just the training but the warmth is coming from my chest. Under my armor.

"Are you coming or what?"

I can't even hear the voice properly.

I shut my eyes and open them forcefully again. 

_Where am I..?_ My surroundings.. everything is on fire. I see the ground steaming. Grass flaming. Leaves disintegrating.

I try to move but.. I can't do anything at all.

And just like that, I collapse and hit the ground. 

Or, at least I should have. Someone caught me right before impact. Everything is getting dark. My eyes eventually close completely.

A hand touches my forehead.

"..ng fever, holy sh-.."

My entire body feels like it's on fire. Specifically around my neck. It's the amulet. I can't say anything or move at all. Something is very wro-

_  
**"** Ah, my dear. I apologise for this mess."_

That. Fucking. Voice.

_You caused this?! What the hells! Why? Or even how!_

_**"** I didn't mean for you to enter this state of complete helplessness. I truly apologise. I merely meant to extend our form of communication to visual, as well. I suppose that will not be possible."_

_What? I couldn't care less for this communication anyway! Just leave me be!_

_**"** As I said, I cannot. You are mine, after all."_

_..Okay. Whoever the fuck you think you are, you better explain what you want from me._

A chuckle. _**"** So determined, yet for the completely wrong cause. You promised to protect me, after all."_

_I don't promise things to just anyone. And unless you're secretly Rose, then I doubt-_

_**"** I am merely Orchid's son, believe it or not."_

Silence.

_Disgusting liar! Orchid was murdered when she was still pregnant. Tell me who you really are._

_**"** I am not trying to trick you. I am Raze. And as for how it is I am alive - I was born before she died. Right before it, actually."_

Another silence. A slightly more disturbing one.

_You.. know his name. How do you know his name? She only told **me**. Even if you were her child, you'd be about three months old. Do more research next time you try to fuck with someone's head._

A monsterous laugh. _**"** Oh, my dear. So beautifully stubborn. There is a reason Orchid hid her pregnancy, even from you. And that was its speed. She was only pregnant for a month, but she must have seemed close to birth to humans."_

_What are you suggesting, deciever? And why should I believe any of it?_

_**"** I suppose I need to let you mull this over in your head. I recommend finding out what 'demonspawn' are."_

_The hells do you-_

_**"** We will continue this later, my sweet."_

_Huh?_

Silence.

The voice is gone.

 _Demonspawn..?_ I remember Brash saying that word. He also used the synonym of 'goat-boy' with it. It came up during that rumour.. A son of a demon and a witch.

  
My body is slowly coming to. As the voice's presence subsides, so does the burning sensation. I can feel my fingers again, my sight is also returning, slowly.

I seem to have been carried away from the training spot. I find myself lying on a bedroll in the shadow of a rock, outside of the Sun's reach. Cold, wet rags rest on my forehead and arms, and.. on my neck and cleavage. Someone unbuckled a few belts and took away the armor protecting my neck and chest. I still have a shirt on, one I always wear underneath, but I feel enormously vulnerable either way.

Realising the situation, I shake my entire body and try to get up, but.. I'm still too weak. I can barely move my arms, let alone legs.

"Don't do anything stupid, girl. You were out for a few hours."

_Huh..? It must be Brash, since the voice called me that name. But it doesn't sound like him at all. His voice is nowhere to being as brutish as usual._

Walking from behind me towards my side, he sits down next to me. This whole situation is incredibly like when he hit me in the head in the forest. Waking up tied and weak, only so he can question me. Now I'm not tied, but can't move anyway.

Semi-conscious, I mumble out: "What.. what happened.."

A chuckle. "I was hoping **you** 'd tell **me**. You passed out right after training. Thought you were just exhausted, but you had a bitch of a fever. I'm surprised you didn't burn alive. I could have cooked eggs on your skin." An uncertain snicker follows.

Silence.

His hand approaches my forehead. It's cold. Or maybe I'm still burning up.

"It's subsiding." I can finally focus enough to see his face. No smirking or sneering. So very much unlike him. I think Brash actually looks concerned. He probably thought it was his fault I fainted. He pushed me hard. Well, I guess I pushed myself. This expression doesn't suit him - I assume he's not had much practice with it. He just looks pissed instead, but in a very subdued way.

  
"You're so small. So weak." I feel his hand on the side of my stomach, he's also examining it with his eyes. I shudder. "A girl, straight out of prison, nearly starved. How am I supposed to train you properly? You give me this much trouble with just a fever." His hand backs off as his head shakes.

"How.. did I get here.."

A scoff. "What, don't tell me you don't remember!" A snicker now, instead. "I had to carry you in my arms. Your big ass is just as heavy as it looks. Nobody else could **ever** lift that off the ground!" And now, a full-blown laugh.

I manage to frown and say, "B..Bastard."

He smirks at my response. "I couldn't let anyone else close to you, anyway. If they **actually** tried to help, which wouldn't even cross the minds of the cunts here, they'd see your pretty little scar and make the connection."

_Huh? Oh.. right. I guess so._

A short pause.

"..Soup was good, by the way. At least you're good at something, if not fighting."

I try to glare at him, but I don't have the strength.

  
"Oh, and who did you steal the amulet from? It's too expensive for a poor cat like you."

_..That fucking amulet. Whoever the voice really is, they will regret this. Trying to fool me like that after making me pass out._

Clearing my throat, I attempt to respond, "Orchid gave it.. to me. Forced it.. on me. I can't take.. it off."

Brash's eyebrows furrow violently, hearing that. Looking at the amulet at first, he then reaches out. Wrapping one of his hands around my hair, lifting it up from the ground, and holding the amulet in the other, he tries to pull it over my head. The gem lifts but the straps stick right to my body, no matter how hard he tries. He lets go of both immediately after.

"Witch cunt! She forced it on you? A fucking enchanted amulet you can't take off?" The fury in his voice is returning. "All witches should be slaughtered on sight."

I start giggling. "I guess.. that's where we.. will come in. The forest witch.. will.." 

I fade further with every word. I am passing out again.

My eyes close. The fever must have not left my body yet.

And.. I'm out completely.

A hand touches my forehead once more. Shortly, the cold, wet rag returns.


	16. Hatred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering from her fever, Bright has nothing to do for the day. An invisible conspiracy begins suffocating her.

Awake, once again.

I rub my fingers with a thumb, still lying on my comfortable bedroll, resting. Somehow I feel colder than usual. It might just be a chilly morning. Those aren't uncommon in the camp.

_Wait. I'm not sleeping on my bag._ _Did someone take it..?_

I spring my eyes open and sit up immediately, examining the area.

_..This is not my bedroll._

I see a few Scarcewall banners around me, underlining the foreignness of my surroundings. _Oh Gods, how did I get here?_ I can't recall much of what happened yesterday. The last thing I remember is the endurance training. And when we were done..

_Right! The voice.._

I passed out and.. I somewhat remember waking up again. I think I recall hearing Brash's voice. Either way, I crouch up and..

 _..Why is my armor undone_. What the **hells** happened to me yesterday?

Seeing a bunch of tiny rags next to me, I remember something else.. Like a fever dream. Brash carrying me in his arms, taking care of me, staying by my side. I must have been really messed up. Or it wasn't real, only a hallucination.

My armor and belts lie right next to me, as if pre-prepared. I grab them quickly and begin fastening the belts, securing the armor around my chest again.

Now, my bag. I had it on me when I fainted. I glance around myself. _Oh, it's behind me_. _Good_. Hopefully nobody read my journal. Or seen the rest of my bag's contents. Questions could be raised about the poison vial. I grab it and put it on my shoulder, ready to leave.   
  


_What do I do now?_ My body hurts all over, still mangled. I doubt training would be effective at all today. But not training seems like a waste of time. Well, first of all, I should find Brash and ask what the plan is.   
  
He's not here anywhere. Actually, all of the soldiers are gone. 

_Did I sleep through an evacuation? That would just be perfect._

Leaving the Scarcewall part of the camp, I begin noticing people appearing. Only a few soldiers, and only Feline ones. It seems that all the Scarcewallers are gone.

_Did he leave for real this time?_

I don't like that thought. It's causing me some uneasiness. Not quire sure why. But maybe they all just.. got up and trained? At the same time? The entire Scarcewall part of the camp?   
  
I bite my lip.

_I need to find out what is going on._

Heading further through the camp, I spot my own sleeping area. No Jasper or Tounnes, either. Only old, injured and a few stable soldiers remain patrolling around. Worry envelops me as I begin walking faster and faster. Surely, there must be some sign of what is-

  
"..you think you are?"

That voice.. It's definitely Brash's. He's still here.   
  
I exhale in relief.

An argument is taking place. I start running towards the raised voices.

".. had to leave. She .. in better conditions," a familiar male voice yells, still somewhat tamely in comparison to Brash's shouts.

"Why the fuck should that matter to me! You nearly compromised my mission because of your cunt!" Brash argues back.

_Is he arguing with.. Oh, no.  
  
_

Now close enough, I see Brash arguing with Mark. Jarlan is also there, but he seems more invested in watching the comedy unfold without his interaction. I stay close enough to listen and see what's happening, but hopefully also far enough for them not to see me.

"How dare you! It's all you two's fault! No honour among rapists and murderers, I see."

Brash laughs out. "You think you're tough, pulling out 'scary rumours' like that? You brought her here. At least protect your slut after you fuck her, don't leave that up to other whores."

I roll my eyes. _Stupid bastard._

" **You**... I have already sent a complain about the two of you to Sunport. You will be stripped of knighthood before you know it!" Mark sounds incredibly confident in his assumption.

Brash and Jarlan look at each other before laughing lungfully. "You think the royal family fucking cares? We could burn down your entire village or rape every woman there. Guess what? They'd not fucking blink an eye. That's exactly how worthless you all are."

I frown. _That's.. unusually disgusting and vile, even for him._

"We'll see about that, 'Sir'. I leave in the evening to oversee the reclamation of southern outpost. You will remain in charge, once more."

"Yeah, just fuck off already."  
  


Mark stomps off angrily towards the western part of the camp, heading for its exit I presume.

_Reclamation of southern outpost? Maybe that's where all the soldiers went._

Brash and Jarlan continue laughing as they watch Mark leave. Talking about something, they turn towards their side of the camp. And they see me in the distance. Jarlan gives Brash a light push before walking off in a completely different direction. Brash curves his lips in apprehension and walks over to me, plainly displeased.

  
"Look what the cat dragged in. A different, beaten cat," he groans, giving me an annoyed look.

I mirror his expression. "Where is everyone? Did I miss something?"

Brash looks around the empty camp. "Southern outpost was taken over yesterday. Reinforcements were called, so we sent our men to take the outpost back."

I drop my gaze to the side, away from Brash. "I see. What is the plan for today, then?"

In a sharp tone, he exclaims, "Nothing. You're fucked from the fever. Do whatever you want, I don't give a shit either way." And with that, he pushes me out of his way forcefully, supposedly heading towards his bedroll. 

Very slowly and in barely noticeable movements, I shake my head, hanging it low on my chest. One day he seems to almost care, another he treats me like I'm a nuisance. _Well, why the hells do I care anyway? I just need to forget about this whole thing._

  
What do I do for today then, if there's no training?   
  
Only now do I realise my intense hunger. I immediately make my way to the cooking fire.

  
A few people are sitting around it, soldiers that were not called off. I don't know any of them, but they don't appear as threats. I should be alright.

Taking some vegetables, I begin cutting them. Each cut brings my mood down further. _Why does it bother me so much, anyway? As if I have a reason to care about what he thinks_.   
Cut. Chop.   
_He's vile. Rude. A complete jerk_.   
I furrow my eyebrows at the vegetables.   
Cut. Cut. Cut.  
 _What a bastard! I can't believe how crude he acts-_

"Ye tryin' ta kill 'em?" Jarlan laughs from next to me. "They ain't gonna fight back, don't ye worry!"

All of the soldiers from around the fire leave as Jarlan comes closer. They hate all Scarcewallers with irreversible passion. I should have been the same way. Nothing would be bothering me now if I were. Jarlan sits down and takes a bowl of food. One of the soldiers who backed off left it here in all the hurry. 

"Wha's gotcha by yer tits, girlie?"

I cringe in disgust before asking, "What the hells does that even mean?"

A deep laugh. "Yer pissed! Yer face is red as a tomato! Ye gonna try stabbin' me again ta feel better?"

Looking at him curiously, I shake my head. "Why would I do that? I don't hate you. Of course I despise your behaviour, but I'm sure you've got some redeeming qualities." Chop. Cut. Cut. I put the vegetables in the pot, looking inside it intently.

He laughs lightly, nearly sadly. "Well, thank ye fer tha', lass. How's yer head? I saw ye lying on tha bedroll yesterday, lookin' like death would take ya any moment!"

I bite my lip while mixing the pot. "I can't remember much. I just passed out, feeling like the hells themselves tried to swallow me."

"Heh, tha' would explain why Brashy couldn't near leave ye at all. Changin' 'em rags all tha time, he didn't even sleep!"

_..What._

I tense my facial muscles in all kinds of emotions. Not even I can describe which exactly. Just everything at once. I drop the ladle from my grasp, bringing one of my hands to support my forehead. My mind is a complete mess. I start tapping one of my feet on the ground as well.

"Ah, so 'twas Brashy tha' got ye by the tits earlier! Wha' did he do? Take a shit in yer bag?" A monsterous laugh.

I cringe again at the suggestion, but laugh with him, even if only for a moment. The hyperboles they both come up with are pretty amusing, I admit. "He's just being insufferable. One day one way, different another. It's messing with my head. I don't know what to think anymore," I respond, grabbing the ladle again.   
  
It's nearly done. I quickly ask, "Want some of the soup? There will be leftovers."

Almost stupefied by my offer, Jarlan barely responds with: "No need." After a moment of silence, he gets up. Clearing his throat, he adds, "It's not easy fer 'im, 'is life's complicated enough. Just sayin'," before walking off.

 _..Yeah, I bet it must be really difficult, being an asshole for no reason._ The soldiers seem like they want to come back, but perhaps they dislike me now, too. Having spoken to a Scarcewaller, what a crime! 

_Half-wits, all of them.  
  
_ I pour the soup in a bowl and decide to walk away towards another sitting area. There are plenty, and since barely anyone is around, they're mostly deserted. Sitting down near another, smaller campfire, I eat my food slowly. Today might crawl by as horribly as some days in prison would. Not training irritates me. I feel useless, but I'm still too weak to train with my own weapons today.

  
Having the bag on me, I decide it might be a good idea to finally finish the book. Only a few pages remain. But I am becoming sceptic of its reliability. Some things Lord Sorin said directly contradicted what the book spoke of. I wonder which one is the correct one? Perhaps Lord Sorin has reasons to hide some things from me? Or the book simply doesn't have enough valid sources and contains misinformation.

I open the book and begin reading while eating.   
  
The last thing I remember the book speaking of is that demonhearts, or also 'acolytes', are incredibly weak compared to the Inquisitors. After the disappearance of the Inquisitors, the training of human acolytes assumed priority over all. The demon lords became more desperate as they slowly started losing control over the fate of their hells. They discovered too late that when acolytes kill each other, they may consume the heart of a defeated one, becoming stronger.

If one eats the heart of another demonheart, they take over their demonic strength without having to give anything back. Meaning the effort of one demon lord was wasted, while the power of another doubled. Losing an acolyte means less souls. A stronger acolyte means more souls. More souls means more power. Apparently, the pale hell suffered the most from this, while the red hell gained the most. 

And.. the book just ends. It has no proper ending. As if somebody just stopped writing and published it anyway. Perhaps they had no other choice? I assume nobody knows anymore, it's quite old. I contemplate what to do with the book. I finished it, but leaving it here.. Someone might honestly just burn it. Animals. Such a clearly valuable book. I have to keep it. It's heavy and large, but I can handle it.

Stuffing it back into my bag, I put the empty bowl on the ground and get up. 

  
"Oh, Bright, there you are. I was looking for you." A voice calls to me. I look for its source. Mark.

"Here I am. What is it?" I can't be bothered pretending. And I'm sure after our last encounter, he knows exactly how I feel anyway.

He sighs deeply. "I spent a lot of time thinking about what you said in the tent." He looks right into my eyes. "I won't ask you to forgive me, I only wish to say I am truly, truly sorry."

I frown at his words nearly agressively.

"The things I've done.. I didn't realise their severity at the time. I was foolish, rude, reckless and completely dishonourable. You've only helped me and I've only ever knocked you down. I apologise from the bottom of my heart." Mark bows, bending at his back completely. The same way he did to Lord Second.

My eyelids quiver in shock, seeing everything that's unfolding in front of me.

Mark gets back up and continues, "I realise this comes rather late, but knowing the departure for your mission is nearing, we may not see each other again. I wanted to make sure I've admitted my honest and total fault before that."

A lump builds in my throat. Swallowing doesn't get rid of it. Every single time he says something, I freeze in place.

"Before I go, Flora wanted you to have this. She wishes you to know she never meant to hurt you in any way," he says, handing me a sealed package. "I will leave you now, Bright. Be well and good luck." He bows again and walks away afterwards.

  
My entire body is trembling. I sit right back where I sat a minute ago, nearly dropping down. With shaky fingers, I unseal the package. It contains.. a small mirror, one you can hold in your hand by a handle. And with the mirror there's also a tiny wooden figurine. A little cat.

I'm speechless. _Why. What do I even do with this now?_

The thought of keeping these items and carrying them around burns. But.. maybe it's time to let go. Let go of my anger. Me and Mark.. we were never meant to be. I think we both knew that from the beginning. And many unfortunate things took place during our time together. Mark and Flora seem much better as an item. Whatever they have.. it's real. It's real and it keeps them going through this damned war. Maybe I actually envy them.   
  
For now, it's time to let go of my anger towards them both. 

  
I breathe in.

_Time to let go._

I breathe out.  
  


I put the cat in my bag. Before doing the same with the mirror, I look into it, observing my reflection. It's big enough to show me my whole face. The armor hides my neck, so I can't see the scar. I look just like I used to.. but my hair, Gods it's a mess. I quickly try to brush it with my hands. Not a lot of success, but a clear improvement.   
  
I sigh and hide the mirror.

Before standing back up, I investigate the camp. The soldiers are occupying the main cooking fire again. A few patrolmen are on duty. Nobody else peaks interest. I wish I could train, honestly, but I'm not able. 

A thought comes to mind.

 _I could try practising a bit with a bow.._? It is much less demanding than all the stances and attacks with swords. Fuck whatever Brash thinks about archers. I'd rather be prepared for any possibility.

I like this idea.

  
Getting up and patting dirt off the armor, I walk over to the target practice area. It's right next to me. A few bows and a bunch of arrows lay abandoned here. I pick a bow up. They're all longbows. That will have to do. Holding it feels very uncomfortable.

I take an arrow and nock it on the string. I succeed on the first try. Lifting the bow towards the targets, I take aim. Focusing completely on them. Examining how far they are. And finally, when I think I am ready, I fire.

I missed the target entirely. It was my first attempt, after all. I can't even laugh at my own failure. I'm completely demoralised. Slightly angry. I don't know whether with myself or with...

I take another arrow and nock it. I take aim-

"You're doing it wrong." A male voice speaks.

Shakily, I turn around. 

_Ah._ "It's you.. Tounnes, right?"

He approaches and stands next to me, taking aim and firing at the target. He hits bullseye. Impressive. "The way you hold the bow is wrong. Too weak. Hold it firmly. And raise your arm when pulling the string."

I follow what he says and try again. I barely hit the target stands.

_If Brash were here, he'd tell me just how worthless I am, making me try again. Over and over until I succeeded. Pushing me to do my best._

  
"I see you're training with ranged weapons, too! I am glad." Another male voice. It's Fisher, his voice is distinctive because of his age. He appears from somewhere behind Tounnes.

"Let's see you fire that bow again, child. I will help guide you," he offers a polite smile.  
  


Again, I nock an arrow, aim and fire. Barely missed the target.

"I see, your right arm is too low. Your aim is affected greatly by that. Here, let me show you," Fisher comes close to me and tries to reach out, but I move away immediately.

"Sorry, I'd.. rather follow verbally. Today is not a good day."

He bows apologetically, "Forgive me, miss. Of course. Just raise your arm, elbow at the height of your jaw."

  
I nock another arrow, aim properly and fire. I finally hit the target right at the outer edge.

"Great job! Amazing improvement!" he says excitedly.

 _..This is so bizarre_. I barely improved at all, yet he praises me as if I hit the center with my eyes closed. All this encouragement... It somehow makes me even angrier. As if he's lying to me to make me feel better.

"If you bring the arrow closer to your face, your aim will be perfect!"

_More sweet words. He praises me for achieving nothing._

I nock an arrow, aim higher and closer and fire.

  
Nearly a center shot.

I did it.

And I'm not happy about it.

I'm mad.

  
"Beautiful work! I was starting to worry the barbarian stopped you from training with us. Glad I was wrong at least about this."

Nocking another arrow furiously, I say determinedly, "..Fuck him," and with too high of a speed, I fire. The arrow burries deep into the target's center.

Fisher and Tounnes, who is only watching us the whole time, are both stunned by my reaction.

"..If anyone deserves this language, it's the demon. He's vulgar, vile, but also dangerous." Fisher starts shakily, but in the end sounds understanding. "I wish there was a way to make him leave the camp. Leave you alone, too. I saw him shoving you earlier. Disgusting creature."

The way he talks about him pisses me off, too. Everything he says is infuriating.

I nock another arrow, aim and-

_**"** You still have that poison. You can kill him while he sleeps."_

Startled, I fire into nothing.

Great. Now the voice, also. Just what I needed.

 **"** _Put some of the poison on the blade and stab him! He won't survive!"_

I'm visibly trembling with anger.

_You. First of all, leave me alone. Second of all, I'm not fucking doing that._

The voice chuckles. _**"** You know he deserves it! You know you want to do it! Watch him die!"_

Fisher joins the fray, "Maybe we could organise a group to subdue him. Tie him up and send him back to Scarcewall in a cart." He laughs monsterously, threatening the air with words of conspiracy.

This combination of voices is driving me insane. _I can't handle any-_

He continues, "Perhaps the royal army could be convinced of his demonic features and execute him!"

_**"** Murder him. Murder the brute! Nobody will miss him. Nobody will care."_

_  
_That's it.

  
Instead of nocking an arrow and firing, I throw the whole bow at the target. I scream out, "FUCKING HELLS! I AM DONE. FUCK THIS," while stomping away, still cursing.

Fuck everybody. How dare they judge him when they know nothing. Nothing at all. Only rumours. Rumours they're apparently willing to murder him over. If any one of us has the right to judge him, it's me. Nobody else even bothers talking to him. They see the scar and the eye and decide he's a cursed demon. Hypocrites. Cowards.

I don't know what to do.

This day is a fucking disaster.

Heading straight to my sleeping area, I clutch my fists tight.

 _ **"** Oh, my. Someone has a short fuse."_ The voice laughs.

_Fuck off already!_

Silence.  
  


Finally, I reach my own bedroll. Sitting down, I notice something underneath one corner. I reach out to figure out what it is. A package. Incredibly similar to the one from Mark, nearly the same. Definitely not packed here. It bears a seal on its opening. Not sure what kind of a seal it is. It must be a city or a town I'm unfamiliar with.

Now, sitting down, I begin opening it. A beautiful, sturdy brush. A few ribbons, bearing shades of royal purple all the way to gold. And a large vial full of.. ink?

_How.. How could someone know what to give me **this** specifically?_

And all of this must have been expensive, too. The brush is layed with thick but soft bristles. The ribbons decorated to perfection. The vial of ink considerably larger than the one Rose gave me.

_This is insane._

..I might as well use the brush combined with the mirror from Flora. My hair needs to be untangled desperately.

_Ohh-_

I feel the anger and fury float away with each stroke. Some tangles are hard to get through, but this brush does the job effectively. The mirror shows me which spots need more attention. It takes a few minutes, but I'm finally finished. Taking out one of the ribbons, I tie it in my hair to keep it in a ponytail. Finally, no more hair in my face.

 _Alright, who could have possibly given this to me?_ The most likely option seems Mark, since the packages are nearly identical. Next would be.. maybe Jasper? I know he feels a certain fondness for me. But I doubt he could afford this. It's definitely **not** Jarlan or Brash, so maybe.. Fisher? I don't know a lot of people here, but they all know me. Perhaps a secret admirer, then?

A shiver runs down my spine thinking about that option.

Even though it is not quite late yet, I am done with this day. I don't even want to write anything down. No will.

Fuck it. I'll just sleep.

I'll force myself to.

Just let this day be over already.  
  



	17. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright's final training session with Brash - sparring.

Every day seems to start similarly. This time, I know I have some form of relief in the company of the gifts from yesterday. Whoever gave them to me knew what exactly to get. Pushing myself up from the bedroll, just like so many other times, I reach for my bag.

Looking around, I see Tounnes, carving something into a piece of wood. Jasper is already awake and somewhere else. Having pulled the brush out of my bag, I brush my hair again. Sleeping always disrupts it.

"I do wonder, convict girl. Why **do** you always sleep with full armor on? Anything to hide?"

My hands freeze for a moment. _..He can't possibly suspect anything, right?_

Brushing again, I answer, "Too many vile men around. No need to make it any easier for them."

Nearly done. Now, putting the brush back, I take out my sword and dagger and another ribbon. 

_I want to keep my hair fixed in one spot. First, I'll tie it in a braid, then I'll tie that braid around itself. All stays fixed with those two ribbons._

A gasp sounds next to me seconds after I pull the weapons and ribbons out. "Serpent! Your armor bears the mark, also!" Tounnes sounds terrified, maybe only superficially. "Don't kill me, please..?"

_What is he talking about now?_

He called me a 'serpent'. Right after I pulled my dagger and sword out. I remember Lord Sorin saying I have 'a serpent in my life', right when he saw the dagger in my dream.

_The hells are the Serpents? An order I'm not aware of?_

"Kill you..? Well.. I'll try not to, I guess," I say with a mischievous laugh. He doesn't seem to appreciate that and runs off.

_Whatever._

  
My hair is now done. It should be secured enough to not pose a problem, even if I were thrown around mercilessly. _I don't like keeping my weapons in my bag. I'll start keeping them in my thigh bracers_. Only remove them before sleeping, I suppose.

In comparison to yesterday, I feel much better. My body isn't on fire or in constant pain.

I assume that means training. _Fuck_. As glad as I am to have something coming, I'm uneasy about seeing Brash after yesterday. How he acted, then what Mark said, what Jarlan mentioned, what Fisher insinuated and what that fucking voice tried to make me do... It shook something inside me.

Grabbing my bag, now with my weapons readied, I get up and leave to find Brash. The camp still remains nearly abandoned. _I wonder how the reclamation is going. Hopefully, no losses._ Walking around the abandoned tents and bedrolls feels eerie. Some of the soldier's belongings are still here, as if they had to leave in a terrible hurry.

When I reach the bedrolls of the knights, I can't see Brash anywhere. Neither Jarlan. _Well, where the hells do I go now? Should I just wait here or what? Ugh._

I don't want to miss them when they return. Finalising my thoughts, I decide to sit down on the ground and write a short journal entry. Might as well. There isn't anything else to do. And I get to use my new ink for the first time.

\------  
 **Journal Entry #5**  
More training completed. I've taken control of my speed. Dual-wielding short weapons feels much more natural than it did at first.

As training gets progressively more complex, Sir Brash seems to grow more volatile in behaviour. One time he's patient and somewhat concerned, other times he insults me, objectifies me and pushes me away. Literally. I hate him for this behaviour. But at the same time, I don't, really. My mind is a mess.  
\------

Footsteps approach. I look up. Brash. Still somewhat angry, but much less than yesterday. Seeing him, I close the vial of ink and shove both it and my journal in the bag.

"Do we train today?" I ask with a deadpan look.

"Yes. It's about time for some real training." And he walks away, meaning me to follow him. I get up and walk behind him, keeping some distance between us. 

We don't talk on the way. It seems we're going to the clearing again, but before we can reach it, he stops. Right at the eastern outskirts of the camp.

"We stay here, no need to go farther. All the important cunts are gone."

I drop my bag and pull my weapons out of my bracers. Without waiting for him to say anything, I start executing postures. I honestly missed doing it yesterday. Swift attacks and guards. Now in the piercing stance. I switch between them as I move through the area. With incredible lightness, I execute the commands over and over.

So much control in my own hands.

I feel like I'm dancing. Flying. Swimming.

But I soon stop, not wanting to exert all of my energy. Taking the guard stance again, I await what Brash says.

Looking at me almost disappointed, he pulls out a sword from an additional sheath on his side.

"Deflect each of my attacks."

I ready my entire body for his attacks. Watching the sword near me. 

Clink.

I bash into the sword, sending it sideways.

Clink. Clink. Clink. Again, again and again.

His next attack is.. different. It swings for my stomach. Knowing I can't deflect in time, I spread my legs wider and bend forward. 

Dodged.

Relentless in his expressionlessness, he continues, "That would be your guard, deflection and dodge. Can you attack?" 

I nod, taking an attack stance. I don't want to say anything to him without it being truly necessary.

"Yeah, **great** job, you can take a stance. In a real situation, the enemy won't let you just fucking attack them. You need to be versatile. Use your brain, dumb whore," Brash says, some anger finally returning to him. I think he can't really help himself - he is a soldier, after all. Battle of any kind probably stirs emotions.

At his remark, I attack without warning. I know he can defend himself. And even if he didn't... Well, I know he can.

He lifts the sword and defends against each of my attacks. My strength is no match for his, so my lunges are sent flying away with ease.

_'Use your brain'. Ass. Absolute bastard._

Seeing none of my attacks hit, I decide to change my strategy. I notice I keep attacking the same spot. The same exact one, really. Switching directions, I aim to hit his stomach, thighs and head in various combinations. This surprises him at first, but all of my attacks are defended from anyway.

I stop attacking. Need to save my energy.

Putting my arms up into a guard stance once more, I wait.

[[ Full Confession - LudoWic ]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ahp7I9S3U20)

His eyebrows furrow seeing my determination as he shakes his head mockingly. "Even your best is still pathetic. Training you is a waste of my fucking time."

 _How can he even say that?!_ I won't let him talk to me like that. Not anymore.

Keeping my guard high, I attack determinedly. Precisely. And incredibly quickly.

I hit a part of his armor. 

Of course, I knew I couldn't hurt him for real.  
  
But I still got a hit in. That's all that matters. I jump away immediately after.

"I didn't know your guard was as pathetic as I seem to be," I can't help but sneer at my own words.

Something flashes in his eyes. A fury, passion of some kind. I only see it in him when we train. He's done playing now. Throwing the small sword to the ground, he pulls his greatsword out from his back holster.

"Think you're ready for the real deal, huh? Then be ready for pain, slut." Taking a threatening, heavy stance, he approaches quickly. 

The way he handles the greatsword is much more fearsome than the smaller sword. Considering how heavy the sword must be, he's still moving lightly. Precisely and furiously. He's gone completely berserk. No wonder other soldiers fear him as a fighter.

I try to deflect the first hit. Even deflecting it hurts.  
  
I can't let him hit me. 

_I need to be faster._

Clink.

_Much faster._

Clink.

He continues attacking relentlessly and wrathfully. Some attacks need to be deflected, so I grit my teeth through them. Others are dodgeable. It takes a lot of energy out of me, but it's still less taxing.

Clink. Clink.

 _I'm focusing too much on only guarding._ _If I'm never aggressive, I can never win._

Instead of letting him push me around in his pace, I try to move around him.

Clink.

_If I get behind his back.._

Clink.

He's not letting me.

And finally,.. 

  
Bash.

  
He finds an opening and shoves me to the ground. Pointing his sword at my throat, he remains victorious. 

"Don't test me. Get up, we still have more training to go through."

I am not giving up. I won't fail myself like this. Getting up from the ground, I take a guard stance again. With my feet readied for movement, I lunge again. He stops me when I get too close, grabbing me by my arms. 

"You want to fucking die, or what?!" he yells right into my face.

  
I ignore him. 

_I'll keep trying and trying until I can't get back up anymore._

Seeing him distracted with my relentlessness and how close he let me to himself, I spontaniously headbutt him.

He lets my arms go.

I attack right after.

Clink.

_I need to find an opening._

Clink.

_I need to get around him._

Clink.

_Somehow._

_I need to be faster._

Clink.

_Much faster._

I avoid his next attack to such an extent, my entire body bends but springs right back. I use his surprise to punch him in the face with the speed of light.

He doesn't even stagger. Only keeps on attacking.

_Gods, he's too strong, too tough for me to deal with._

And, once more,..

  
Bash.

  
He finds another opening and shoves me to the ground, this time face first.

I'm breathing heavily, unable to calm down.

_I keep failing and failing. So weak and useless._

  
"Just fucking stay down, girl. Learn when to give up already!" his voice sounds a level of exhaustion. Not enough to let me feel good about myself.

Not enough.

It's not enough.

I'll keep losing until I leave all my worry behind.

Even if he ends up killing me, I'm supposedly going to come back to life.

I need to fight without holding back.

Even if it kills me.

Even if I die, I can't give up.

I get up again.  
  


"Never," I say as I ready my stance once again.

My arms are a mess of small wounds. They heal quickly. I see them tremble. Either exhaustion, anger or fear. I can't tell the difference anymore.

"You're completely fucked in the head, aren't you? I don't want to kill you, so don't fucking-"

Without any regard for myself, I lunge again. 

Furiously. 

Viciously. 

Now, fighting with every ounce of strength I have left.

Clink.

I dodge most of his attacks. Either I'm that much more determined, or he's trying to hold back.

Clink.

 _How can I even win?_ His armor blocks every hit I manage to sneak through.

Clink.

He needs to go down on the ground, maybe I could.. redirect him with my speed, just like with deflection?

Clink. Dodge.

I wait for a powerful attack, one that will send his arms flying further when dodged.

Clink. 

Clink.

He's charging now.

Giving it everything I've got, I bend backwards, then bend in the knees and try to sweep his leg to the side, making him fall.

It's.. somewhat successful. He didn't expect that, definitely stumbling for a moment, but recovering shortly.

He swings again in retaliation.

Clink.

_I can't win._

Clink.

Clink.

And another opening.

He grabs me by my throat and pushes me down to the ground with himself. 

The edge of his sword presses on my throat right above his grip.

And that's it.

I lost three times in a row. 

  
I can't keep my strength up anymore and I crack. My eyelids quiver and.. I break into a cry. It's been a while since I did that, last time also in front of Brash. Now he must truly think I'm pathetic. 

He's just staring right into my eyes, watching my reaction. His breath reaches my face. Our faces are so very close. Still pressing the sword on my throat, he's keeping me down. Keeping me from doing anything else stupid. And.. his fury is gone.

"Learn when to give up," he says in a mild tone.

"I can't."

"Why the fuck not? You want to die **that** badly?" His questions are accompanied by a confused but clearly concerned grimace. My tears rapidly fall down the sides of my face in a cascade of desperation.

"I.. don't want to fail. I don't want to be a failure. I don't want to be a burden," I finally whimper out.

He frowns wildly at my words, stupefied by my response. 

"..You're not a failure or a burden."

I shake my head in disagreement. "Yes I am! You keep telling me, and guess what, you're right. I could barely get close to-"

"So fucking what! Nobody beats me, girl. I've killed hundreds stronger than you, even stronger than me," Brash barks out, but not aggressively as his words might suggest. His tone remains mild and troubled. "Still.."

He turns his gaze away, aiming it somewhere into the distance. "You've got more balls than any of the pussies here. Others in your place would have given up, or died. But learn when to fucking back down! What's the point if you kill yourself in the process?"

_I..suppose he's right. I don't want to die. I don't. I just wish I weren't so weak._

He throws the sword away from my throat and looks intently into my eyes. Sighing, he wipes my tears with his fingers, hands lingering on my cheeks. "I'll be there to protect you and keep you safe. You are **not** a burden and you are **not** a failure. You're a great kitten. Got it?"

I close my eyes and.. smile gratefully. "Yes.. Sir," comes out of my mouth with one last sob. 

Pulling his hand away swiftly, he gets up, not pinning me down to the ground anymore. Opening my eyes, I see him offering an open hand, ready to pull me up. 

I accept readily, without any hesitation. 

Once clutching my hand in his, he pulls me up from the ground, right into his prepared embrace. I can feel our heads touching only barely. His arms hug my body attentively and carefully, as if to not hurt me but shield me at the same time, before-

  
"Sir! The soldiers are back!" We turn towards the voice and move away from each other instantly. Someone is standing behind the barricades. It's a Feline scout by the looks of his gear.

_R-right, soldiers.. I completely forgot about the southern outpost._

"So fucking what?!" Brash shouts at him murderously.

"The-the commander has asked me to relay a message: 'Southern outpost has been recovered, your mission begins tomorrow. Tonight, a celebration will be held for the fallen and the survivors'."

Concern spreads through Brash, not only his expression but his entire posture. Glancing at me shortly, he turns to the scout again. "..Affirmative. Tell him we leave in the morning. And that he's a cockless cunt."

The scout gives him a wide-eyed look but nods, before leaving us alone again. Once alone, I inquire worriedly, "So, tomorrow morning it begins?" The knowledge of our impending mission has always been there, but knowing it's tomorrow, not even a full day away.. I'm getting anxious.

Brash keeps staring in the direction of the camp. Angrily. "Yeah. Celebration at night." A twisted scoff. "Whatever. Don't get drunk and fuck everyone. I won't be protecting a fucking whore," Brash nearly yells at me as he walks off.

_..There he goes again. I guess I can never know what he's really thinking._

He's still a true bastard and a barbarian. But.. he reassured me. Wiping my tears, saying he'll protect me, holding me close.. A shiver runs down my spine. _If only he stopped changing his behaviour. It's almost like he's messing with me, but I can't figure out why. I wish also he stopped storming off when he gets into this mood._

I sigh and walk to my bedroll, not completely sure what this 'celebration' is. And, I underestimated the training. My hair fell down when Brash pushed me onto the ground. 

  
Soldiers pour into the camp from the western entrance. They all look absolutely exhausted, but still march on towards their tents.

Reaching my bedroll, I sit down and pull out the mirror and the brush.

_Tonight's the last night I spend here._

_Better make it count._


	18. Of Devotion and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrating the victory in the southern outpost, Bright and Brash realise the reality of their situation.

"..Once betrayed, the previously existing trust can never return. When you devote yourself to someone completely, so wholly that your well-being comes after theirs, how will you recover if they betray you? Is it better to, instead, never trust anyone? But without trust, what do we have that demons do not? Love, trust and betrayal all go hand in hand. It's up to us to choose, which one we live or die by."

***

Orchid used to wear her hair in this.. incredible, magnificent braid on her shoulder. She always looked perfect that way. Prestigious and regal. I decided to do mine the same for the celebration. I fully realise the level of company there cannot match up to the hairstyle's purpose, but it **is** my last day here. I want to do something special. And since I can't dress any differently, this will have to do.

I've been watching the preparations from my bedroll. A few soldiers were ordered to clear out an area in the center of the camp. A vast number of logs now surround the outer edge of the circle, while a pyre was built in the middle. A few of the soldiers who left, died in battle. They will be honored by the burning of the pyre in the beginning of the celebration.

Now, the soldiers are carrying jugs of various kinds from constantly reappearing carriages. I'm not quite sure who even paid for all this. The closest towns must be Hammerfall and Saintsar. And, honestly, they're both only villages. The closest city is by far Scarcewall. Perhaps Lord Mace supplied all of this?

  
"Be careful, boys. These jugs are more valuable than anything you own." A female voice. _How is that possible..?_ There are no women here. Only me. Flora is gone.

Getting up and heading towards the direction of the voice, I decide to investigate. Weapons tucked in my bracers. Having them so close keeps me calm. Steady. Prepared. _I know I can defend myself. At least.. I think so._ I sigh.

Moving towards the camp's western entrance I see the woman. She's standing next to one of the carriages. And I instantly recognise her. I don't wait a moment and begin running towards her. "Rose!" I yell out to her.

She turns around, surprised, but starts grinning when she sees me. "Well, well! Look at you! You're not the same scared cat I remember. But still just as cute. And you fixed your hair!" I run all the way to her and give her a hug. I can feel she has no idea what to do. Her arms rest in the air for a while before patting my back.

"Oh, my. The boys got you **that** bad, huh? Didn't think you'd miss me this much!" She laughs. I pull away from her and smile, "I'm sorry, I just didn't realise how glad I'd be to see you again."

Looking at the dagger I've got stuffed in my bracers, she narrows her eyes cheekily. "How's my dagger treating you? I see Brash trained you to fight the same way I do. Let me guess... dexterity?"

_Huh? Oh, right, my demonic power._

I shake my head in disagreement, "Speed. He said he's.. never seen anyone as fast as me." 

Raising her eyebrows in genuine surprise, she adds, "Doesn't sound like Brash. Oh well - how'd the meeting with the 'commander' go?" Rose smirks brazenly. The last time she saw me, it was right before my arrival. Before meeting Mark.

"I told him off in front of his new engagement and Brash. It felt good. Thank you for what you said before leaving, it helped me survive here," I say, smiling gratefully. Glancing at the dagger, I grab it and hold it to Rose. "I assume you'll want this back? It is still yours."

Rose looks at the dagger longingly. She reaches out, but instead of taking it, she clutches my own hand around it. "It's not mine anymore. It's not been mine for a long time, even before I gave it to you. It's a dagger of someone who.. no longer exists." And, smiling again, she takes a step back from me.

_I wonder if the 'Serpent' has anything to do with this._

"Hope you enjoy the celebration, Bright. I heard your mission starts tomorrow. This might be the last time you.." She furrows her eyebrows and exhales through her nose. "..you get to have fun."

_Why is she saying it like the mission is the last thing I'll ever do..? Is the witch really that dangerous?_

She completely changes her expression, back to one of confidence. "Well! I have to return to Scarcewall again. Lord Mace, ah, such a sweetling. He loves hearing me talk!"

_..I doubt that's true, her expression is incredibly tensed._

Before she leaves, I quickly ask, "Rose.. Can you tell me who the 'Serpent' is?"

She freezes at my question. A frown. Pursed lips. Rapid blinking. And right back to confidence. "Knowing that would only put you in danger. But I can tell you this: Don't deal with **any** Serpents. **Ever**. If you even have the chance." A sorrowful glance towards the carriage. 

"I truly have to go. Take care, Bright." She climbs on top of it and hits it twice with her hand. It begins moving away. I see her mouth 'Goodbye'. I nod at her.

  
Walking back to the camp, I notice many soldiers have already gathered. Not all of them. I know some were simply too tired to stay up. The soldiers are taking most of the space sitting down around the circle. Everyone is drinking merrily.

I inhale and exhale. I suppose it could be fun, but I've got this.. horrible feeling about it all. Some things Rose said only support it. And knowing we're leaving in the morning... A lot is awaiting me.

I approach the circle, looking for a spot to sit at. I immediately spot Jasper and Tounnes laughing and talking. But.. I also see Brash and Jarlan, both drinking heavily - perhaps in a contest with the other soldiers.

_Where should I go?_

There's some space next to Jasper. A lot more space next to Brash. I think I.. I want to.. sit next to Brash. His company is surprisingly comforting, especially considering what happened earlier. I hope he doesn't mind me there.

I begin approaching them, but Brash spots me from a distance. With a furious grimace, he immediately reaches for his greatsword and places it beside him, occupying all of the free space. He makes it very clear I am not welcome.

That.. hurts. That really hurts. My insides swirl, twist and compress. The gesture feels like a kick in the stomach. But.. I won't let anyone see that on me.

"..Bright, come! We saved you a spot!" Jasper yells towards me. At first, I keep staring at Brash with a blank look, but move towards Jasper soon enough. I suppose I still consider them both a good company. Tounnes.. maybe not so much. He's incredibly suspicious of me, and that's unsettling.

I smile at Jasper dejectedly, and sit down on the spot he saved for me. "Thank you. I wasn't sure where to go." Jasper pats my back and says, "We have to stick together, after all! The only Feliners on the mission. We have to have our backs!" A smile.

_I guess so. Nobody else will be there for certain. Brash might just decide to abandon us one day. He's so absolutely unpredictable. I hate it._

The positioning is similar to the knighting. Two Scarcewall knights sit opposite of me. Brash is staring at the ground, while Jarlan goes off about something, laughing manically. Hopefully, I won't have to punch anyone to make this event enjoyable.

Two Scarcewall soldiers stand up and walk to the pyre.

_I guess it's beginning._

  
One clears his throat and begins, "We lost a few men during our battle for the southern outpost. A few men. All cunts. But good cunts. They deserved better. May you fight on in the afterlife."

The other approaches with a torch and sets the pyre ablaze.

Now both yell loudly, "CHEERS, BROTHERS!" while raising their jugs. Everyone else in the circle follows. I don't have a jug to raise, so.. I just raise an imaginary one.

The two soldiers stand silently at the pyre for a while. They almost look like they're.. praying. Eerie silence surrounds us all. Some gaze at the ground, some have their eyes closed completely, some continue drinking and others clutch their hands together in prayer. Even Jarlan shows respect for the dead. Brash just keeps staring at the ground with a deadpan look.

_I would have never guessed them to believe in anything, considering they behave._

About a minute later, the two lift their heads and jugs again. "Let's celebrate them!" The entire circle yells in agreement. More drinking follows. Heavy drinking.

"Bright, would you like a jug? I'm not sure whether you drink beer," Jasper asks. Apparently, Jarlan is within earshot, because he responds instead of me: "She ain't no drinker! Just look at 'er! She can barely **watch** us drink!" He continues with a laugh, gulping his drink happily.

I glare at him slightly, but respond to Jasper's question with a question of my own, "I can drink, but.. is there any wine?"

My question raises a few heads in my vicinity, even Brash's. _Did I say something wrong?_ They all brust out laughing. "Fuckin' wine! Ye gotta be shittin' me, girlie! We only got beer, tha's all ye need anyway!" Jarlan exclaims proudly.

I think back to what Orchid said about men and beer. I don't appreciate Jarlan's tone. I get an unstoppable need to taunt him. "Orchid gave me this speech once. That men drink beer either to get drunk, gain courage or forget. So, which one's you? Forgetting about your 'short' existence?" I start laughing playfully. A few others join me in a bit. 

Thankfully, Jarlan laughs, too. I'm glad I didn't really offend him. Knowing how Brash and him speak to each other, I think he's rather used to this.

Before anyone else can follow, I finally answer Jasper, "I'll take the beer. It's been a while since I tried it first. Let's see if the taste improved." He looks at me curiously, but nods, handing me a prepared jug.

  
As I take it in my hand, I notice many of the soldiers in our quarter of the circle watching me. As if my reaction to the beer was the most interesting thing at the moment. It could be worse, though. At least they're mostly Feliners. 

I raise the jug and take a sip.

. _.Ugh. Still that bitterness. But.. it's bearable. Much more mild. Either different style of brewing, or I'm on my way to becoming a 'foolish, damaged woman', just like Orchid described._

Lowering the jug, all the faces fall on me expectantly. I grin and say, "Not bad, I guess." That response gets some nods, laughs and some raised jugs. More drinking follows.

"Speaking of which, how did killing the witch feel?" Tounnes asks. I nearly choke on the beer hearing his question. Jasper turns to him and almost yells, "Tounnes! She didn't do it, of course!"

Great, **more** attention. The question everybody must have been wondering the entire time: 'Did I really kill Orchid?'

I shake my head and speak to anyone who's around me and cares to listen, "I left her before night fell. She was still very much alive. In the morning, they came to my home and.. imprisoned me for her murder. If you honestly believe I killed her, you're insane."

The mood visibly drops with this subject. There's very little someone can say to lighten the atmosphere again. Jarlan makes such an attempt, "Tha important question is, did ye fuck 'her? Ye were 'er apprentice! How'd 'er cunt taste!" He laughs. Some join him. Others just keep drinking. Only now do I see how desperate some of these men truly are.

I cringe, "Gods, I would never! That's disgusting."

Brash finally joins the conversation by saying, "Living with a witch and not fingering her cunt - what a likely fucking story." He doesn't lift his eyes from the ground, only stares at it between drinking.

Jarlan laughs, patting him on the back in approval, before changing the subject completely.

  
"I'll tell ye all how we dealt wit' our own witch at Scarcewall! It's a good story!" He pours a big gulp of beer down his throat, while soldiers around him turn to listen. Me, Jasper and Tounnes also listen, since we have nothing else to do, really.

"We enter 'er lair, us two an' a few others. I am in tha front, clutchin' me sword. Brashy 'ere charges in like a maniac! I follow 'im 'cause I am no bitch! Tha witch comes out. Holdin' some spear. We think "tha fuck is she doin'", but before we know it, tha spear bursts out flames!"

Another gulp. He wipes his mouth into his beard. I sip some of my own beer. Somehow, I managed to drink most of it already.

"We hide behind a pillar, but 'er magics are fuckin' strong! 'em other men wit' us die in tha flames right then. Me beard catches fire, too. Now I am real **pissed**!" He burps. How fitting.

"So Brashy decides **I** gotta save our asses! He's too fuckin' massive ta move fast enough. He takes me by tha belt an' throws me at 'er! Me sword ends right at 'er face. BUT - Tha's not it yet! There's anotha one!" He shakes his hands up and down in the air, either from how drunk he is or from how intense his reminiscence feels.

"A young witch wench! I sprint at 'er wit' me legs as fast as they take me. A TRAP! It freezes me foot! Now it's all up ta Brashy. Tha young one ain't know of 'im yet. She comes close ta me face an' before she knows it, 'er head flies off!" Jarlan laughs victoriously.

"An' tha's how we beat 'em! Tha feared witch slayers!" Finishing his jug, he grabs another one.

_I wonder why those two even had to be killed. Scarcewallers don't do anything unless it's a direct order from Lord Mace. Why would he care about witches?_

I won't ask about that here, not in front of so many people. Then again, most of the soldiers stopped paying attention during the story and are conversing between themselves. I do think about another question for him.

  
"So, you two are what, best friends? Clearly you're not related." I scoff.

Jarlan laughs out. A twisted sort of laugh. He might just be near passing out. "Ye, he's me little brother! Har har! Ye should ask 'im yerself, he's **dyin'** ta talk ta ye!"

Brash glares at him furiously, "Yeah, I'll talk to her about witches, Scarcewall and the fucking palace while she sucks my cock in the forest."

Disgusted, I can't even look at him. I finish my jug, getting used to the taste. Jasper finally speaks out after a while, "Ignore them, Bright. They're both drunk and have no idea what they're saying."

I smile. _He doesn't have any idea what they're really like, huh?_

"It's fine, I don't care. Can you hand me another jug, please?" Jasper looks concerned at my response. He most likely doesn't like the idea of me drinking beer. I assume him and Orchid share an aversion for it - he's barely made progress on his jug. With a nod, he hands me another.

And so the celebration continues for a while. Jarlan tells a few more stories, Jasper and I talk about Mark and his behaviour before my imprisonment, Tounnes makes a few more remarks about me being some twisted murderer. All in all, sort of an entertaining evening.

  
It's getting dark. I can't see some people's faces completely. Only the Moon's light offers guidance. A considerable amount of soldiers left the circle. They were tired, after all. Only the ones who were left behind in the camp, or ones who are too drunk to leave, still remain in the circle. In our quarter it's only me, Jarlan, Brash and two other Feline soldiers.

As people begin falling asleep - rather, passing out - the circle falls silent for the most part. Delirious laughs can be heard every now and then. Looking at the faces of some soldiers, at least as well as I can see, sadness and loneliness spreads through them.

My inquiry is interrupted by a voice. 

  
"Come here." It's Brash. He removes his greatsword from the log next to him, making space for me.

Raising my eyebrows at him, I ask, "Oh, **now** you want me there? I seem to remember wanting to sit there before. Can you figure out why that didn't happen?" The words just fly out. Either it's the beer stopping me from holding back, or I just needed to say it right to his face.

Covering his eyes with his hand, he repeats, "Come. Here."

I consider his generous offer before sneering. "Not without a reason. A legitimate one."

Now also pursing his lips, he growls, "Come. Here. Already."

_**He** 's getting irritated? As if I didn't have the right to be angry. The shit he did right after seeing me approach.. It hurt. Asshole._

I resolutely respond, "No."

Jarlan watches us intently. The whole scene seems amusing to him, he dares not interrupt to see the outcome.

Putting his hand down, Brash glares at me, infuriated by my refusal. 

"I said come here, slut. Don't make me fucking say it again."

Threats might have worked yesterday. Not right now.

I grin mischievously at his anger and don't respond at all, this time. I only stare at him.

Jarlan laughs out loudly. He's deeply interested in what Brash means to do now.

Brash finishes his.. fifth, sixth jug and gets up.

_Uh-oh._

I hover my hands over my weapons.

Stopping in front of me, he offers me his hand, just like before. A hand to pull me up.

I think about what to do. My hands move from the weapons. I look into Brash's eyes for a while. They're looking back into mine. _..Fuck. All that fucking resolve, for nothing._

And, eventually.. I accept.

Clutching my hand in his, he pulls me up into his embrace. But unlike last time, this one is short-lived. Once I'm up, he grabs me around my waist and, temporarily placed on his shoulder, he carries me to where he sat before.

"You.. Ugh!" 

My bag almost flies open as he carries me. Slowly, he places me down to where his sword used to be. Then he sits next to me, just like he sat before.

  
I frown angrily. "..Yeah, who cares what I say, anyway. Fuck me and my opinions."

He shakes his head, glancing in Jarlan's direction. Another jug appears in his hand. Perfect. As if he hasn't had enough.

"Gladly." A pause. "..I needed to talk to you, but you're always such a stubborn cunt."

"The hells do you want, then?"

A smirk. "I heard an interesting rumour today. Apparently, **someone** poisoned a guard of Feline's prison about a week ago. The same day you left it. I believe his name was.. Bold."

My body freezes while my eyes open wide.

_So.. he died? He really died. And Brash mentioned only Bold dying... Good. That's good. Right? He did deserve it, after all._

"On his birthday, too. Fucking hilarious. Didn't know you were such a fucking murderous lunatic."

_A.. murderer. The exact thing I was innocent of, now I am guilty of. But does it really count if it was justified? Then again, who can be the judge of that._

"I.. didn't do anything.." I try to sound convincing, but end up stuttering.

Another, sadder smirk, "Sure you didn't. Rose must have just been fucking with me."

_She told him? Oh Gods._

Biting my lip, I silently respond, "He deserved it. He deserved to die for what he did. Not only to me, but to.. all the others."

He looks at me for a moment. "..I don't care anyway, but some people might connect the dots," and he returns to drinking.

  
Silence.

  
"The fuck was the yelling about? The one from two days ago. When you were supposed to fucking **rest** after the fever. Do you ever listen to anything I tell you?"

I scoff.

_Those complete assholes. Saying they'd kill him without a thought. That he deserves to suffer. That nobody would care. Ughhh-_

"I got.. really mad. And I don't mean the anger I get into with you. I mean real fury. I wanted to train, but couldn't since you refused. Thought I would learn the basics of archery-"

Brash rolls his eyes in disappointment.

"-Yeah I fucking know, okay? You pissed me off. Then Mark messed with my head. Then Fisher tried to guide me, which only pissed me off more. And then.. he started calling for your head. That you're a demon and whatever-the-fuck else. That's when I yelled out. And.. I also threw the bow at the target. You'd have killed me if I did that with you, huh?"

I see Brash smirk in a satisfied, maybe proud way. "You **threw** the bow?" He follows with a laugh. "Fuck's sake, kitten. I wish I had seen that. Your anger is just adorable. And I should have sent you practise with bows anyway. I was an idiot."  
  
 _..What did he just say? Did he just call himself an idiot? I think he's more drunk than he lets on. Hopefully, I'm not._

"How many times did you miss? Like a fucking million, I imagine?"

"Hey! I figured it out pretty quickly. I only missed a few times. I hit the center, too."

I feel his mood plummet again. "Okay."

  
Another silence.

Painful, brutal silence.

  
Jarlan is nearly passed out now, leaning on a tree, his body moving in all kinds of ways. I'm not so bad off, I only had two jugs. Or three? I can't remember now. My vision is somewhat blurry, but I can still focus. At least I think. Some things are on my mind.

"Can I ask you a few questions?"

He glances at me for a second, but returns to staring at the ground.

"No, you can't. But you'll ask anyway, so just fucking do it."

  
I breathe in. 

I breathe out.

  
"..Do you like hurting other people?"

I can see his entire body move in surprise. He takes a while to respond. _Maybe nobody asked him such a thing before?_

"Yeah. I guess so. Still, depends on the people." He clutches his fists tightly and takes another sip.

  
"How long have you been a knight?"

"About seven years."

With some confusion pouring through my voice, I ask, "..Wait, how old are you?"

Turning his head to me and eyeing me curiously, he responds, "Old enough to fuck you, if that's what you want to know." He shakes his head somewhat mockingly. "But if you care about an actual answer, I'd say it's around double your age."

"Oh.. Okay," I begin shakily before clearing my throat. "You look good for.. your.. age."

Brash looks at me like I've gone completely mad. 

_Bright, what the fuck are you even talking about anymore._ I'm definitely drunk. Such a lightweight.

I clear my throat once more, as if to alleviate the awkwardness. 

"So, do you ever regret things you've done? Things I've heard you say.."

An empty pause. He's taking a moment to prepare an exact answer.

"Sure I do, but that doesn't change any of it, does it?" he replies down-heartedly, taking another gulp of his drink.

"It does. It.. could. Redemption is always a possibility. Forgiveness. Absolution," I attempt to reassure him.

Regret can be read in his voice and expression as he retorts, "Not for me. That's long, long gone." 

Another sip. He's nearly drank it all again.

Looking at the jug, I frown with worry and ask, "Why are you drinking so heavily tonig-"

But I'm interrupted. A foreign voice speaks in our direction.

  
"Ah! There she is! I found her!"

I turn to see who it is. But it's too dark, I can't make out his face. It's a soldier. Scarcewall armor and colours. He walks towards me somewhat slowly. He's drunk, I'm only waiting for him to trip on his own feet.

"Uh, yes? You.. need something from me?" I shoot the soldier a question in a confused and slightly wary tone.

The soldier laughs, "Hah hah, that's right. I sure do," before sneering at me widely.

Brash examines him. "Wade, you better get the **fuck** out of here. I am really, **really** not in the mood for your shit." His voice is full of rage and bitterness. _I never see him address the soldiers by name. Maybe this is one of the Scarcewallers joining us? He **did** choose them himself._

"Did she upset you, Sir? I'm sure me and the boys can fix her attitude!" The soldier stands right in front of us, barely holding still. Hearing what he said, I hover my hand over the dagger. This time I won't care. I didn't pull it on Brash when he carried me away because.. I guess I just.. don't want to hurt him. This one, on the other hand...

"You better fuck off right now if you know what's good for you." Brash's voice sounds more furious with each passing moment. Threatening. Ruthless.

The soldier seems upset with Brash's reaction. "Why are you wasting your time talking to some Feline bitch? Where's your loyalty to Mace? To Scarcewall!" His words pour out in an almost incoherent mess. I have a strong feeling he will regret his decisions severely tomorrow.

"Why would that be any of your fucking business? Gods fucking help me if you say another word about.. anything." Brash's fists are clutched so tightly, he might just break the jug. I look at his face for a second. It's brimming with madness, wrath.

"Well, of course it's my business, Sir! We want to try a piece of your pet whore, too," he blurts out while grabbing me by an arm and pulling me up from the log. I slide my dagger out, but he stops my entire arm immediately. He's incredibly fast, even for how inebriated he appears. 

Well, this forced embrace doesn't last long, anyway.

Brash jumps up and aims right at him, taking him down completely in one motion. He doesn't stop when the soldier falls to the ground either. Crouching next to his face, he keeps hitting him, blood gushing out with each strike. 

Jarlan wakes up, hearing the commotion.

  
" **How** -"

Punch.

" **Fucking** -"

Punch.

" **Dare** -"

Punch.

" **You-** "

Punch.

" **Touch-** "

Punch.

" **Her!** "

Punch.

  
Seeing what's going on, I can't move a muscle. There's blood everywhere. On Brash's fist, his armor, even his face. The soldier looks absolutely maimed. I tremble at the horror.

Staggered at first, Jarlan finally runs towards Brash. Dragging him away by one arm, he tries to interrupt him. Brash keeps on going. Nobody else is trying to intervene, everyone who's even conscious is completely petrified by the scene unfolding.

"Brash! Hold yerself back already!" Jarlan tries to make him stop verbally now. I can't tell whether he succeeded, or whether Brash finally reached a desired result. He stops either way. The man lies on his back, motionless. I can't tell if he's dead. Wait.. His chest is lifting. He's breathing. Brash.. Brash almost killed him.

Once he stands up from the crouch, he kicks the man in the side. Pushing Jarlan away and picking up his greatsword from the ground, he walks off into the forest.

  
Terrifying, pensive silence. 

  
Me and Jarlan stand still as Brash's footsteps grow more and more distant.

_I can't believe what just happened. He nearly killed him because of.. what the man said and did._

My whole body is trembling at the sight of the incapacitated soldier.

_I need to go after Brash.. I need to make sure he's.. he's not going to do anything stupid. He took the sword with him._

Tearing my gaze off the man, I begin walking in the direction where Brash went, still mortified by the display of his wrath.

  
A hand stops me.

Jarlan.

"Take 'em wit' ye. He'll need 'em," Jarlan says with a voice full of concern, handing me two jugs of beer. "Be a good cat, he won't hurt ye."

"What.. happened to him?" I ask, shakily.

Jarlan looks unsure of what to say. "..Just talk ta 'im."

I nod, still trembling unstoppably.

  
Trying to move through the forest carefully, I nearly trip on a few rocks. I can't see them very well.

_Gods, Brash.._

Hoping I won't find corpses leading me to him, I look around, searching for his silhouette. His voice. Anything. I almost trip again while investigating. But this time, I see it's not just rocks. It's a small tree, cut in half. That must be his work.

I continue along the path of destruction, and finally, I find Brash sitting down, leaning on a massive, old tree.

The greatsword's blade is buried into the ground in front of him. Brash is covering half of his face with one hand. Without hesitation, I walk until I'm standing right next to him. Sitting down beside him, I place the jugs to my other side.

And.. we just sit quietly for a while. He puts the hand away from his face and leans his head on the tree. I do the same with mine. There's nobody but us. Peace and quiet, for once. He must have let out a lot of hidden frustration and anger. Built-up pressure errupted.

Watching the stars, everything seems so peaceful and tranquil. I wish we could stay here and not move. Stay like this. If only we were somewhere else, not next to a military camp. Not right before departure.

I reach for one of the jugs and hold it in front of him. He takes it and drinks about a half of it before giving it to me. I drink the rest in a moment.

  
I sigh. "I suppose you really hate that guy, huh?"

"..He's one of the best soldiers I've ever trained. But nobody will do that. Nobody. Say that shit and then try to drag you away. I should have fucking killed him," he answers, voice branded with the remnants of his anger and a hint of gloom.

Moving my head to the side, I can see his face clearly in the moonlight. Reaching my hand to his arm in concern, I decide against it half-way there.

I laugh sadly, "So, what, only **you** 're allowed to hurt me?"

Brash furrows his brows slightly, perhaps taking my comment more seriously than I meant it.

With a short exhale, I continue, "It's difficult to tell what you're thinking, you know? Sometimes I can't tell whether you hate me or just enjoy tormenting me."

  
Heavy silence.

A long, torturous silence.

  
Brash breaks it, "What you said Orchid told you about reasons for drinking.." His expression is of a complete breakdown. My stomach stirs, seeing him so demolished. Completely soaked in blood, even if it's not his. All I want is to reach out and help.

"..She had a point. I've always drank to get fucked up, sometimes to forget. Only today did I have to drink to gain the fucking courage... And I still don't have it. I tried and I couldn't say a word. Nothing. What a pussy I am."

My eyebrows sink and so does my heart. I feel horrible watching him like this. Nothing comes to mind when trying to figure out what could help him. I'd honestly rather see him pissed off at me than in this state. It's worrying me, crushing me. Shaking my entire being. Tearing my mind apart. 

There's so much blood on him. His entire face is soaked in it. His right fist is.. crimson red. 

  
Reaching into my bag I pull out a clean piece of cloth. I shimmy closer to him, facing him directly. Sitting down over his right leg, keeping it between both of mine, I examine his face closely. I might have cared about reserving some distance between us before, but that's as good as gone.

"There's.. blood everywhere on you.." I whimper, shifting my eyes over his veiled profile.

I reach out with both my hands. He looks me right in the eyes as I come closer to him, not stopping me from approaching. My left hand reaches his face, palm grazing his skin. For a moment, he closes his eyes and barely noticeable presses into my hand, as if to feel my touch better.

With the piece of cloth in my right hand, I slowly and carefully begin wiping the blood off of him. His eyelids first, then mouth, then the rest follows. 

His eyes express honest surprise when he notices the piece of cloth. "You.. kept it? This whole time?" It's from back in the forest. Right after our first meeting. Crying over what he revealed about Sybil. He gave me a piece of white cloth to dry my tears.

"Of course I did. It was a gift, sort of. I have the book, as well. It's.. really heavy. But I would never get rid of it. It's from you and that.. makes it priceless," I respond sweetly while cleaning off the last bits of blood from his neck.

He parts his lips in shock, "You just.. never stop surprising me. You're too good. Too good to be true. You can't possibly be real. I must have lost my fucking mind at some point. Now I'm in some cruel paradise."

I smile joyously, hearing his words, hearing his veiled confession. Still holding his face in my left hand, I caress it and retaliate with a confession of my own, "I hope this isn't illusory, then. I'd hate to wake up, thinking none of it was real. And even if it were, I'd rather stay right here. Right now. With you."

Brash only manages to gawk at me, truly astonished by the words that exit my mouth. He never stops looking deeply into my eyes. He never tears his gaze away. As if this was the first time he could see me properly with no obstructions. 

Having cleaned his face, I bring his right arm closer to me, gently placing it in my lap. I have to assess the damage done to his hand from all the violence. Removing his completely bloody gauntlet, I find.. nothing. On touch, his hand feels rough and worn, but uninjured. I don't let it go from my hold. He doesn't move it away and holds mine instead, moving his fingers along my skin, examining its smoothness.

"I thought you'd need my help," I chuckle lightly. "Should have known better, huh?"

His face is locked in a nearly constant state of shock. 

"You have no idea.. No idea how much I need your help," Brash whispers weakly.  
  


Leaving his right hand in mine, he moves his left towards my face. Or, my hair. Examining the regal braid I wove it into. Softly moving it around, feeling it with his fingers, playing with the ribbon I tied into a bow.

"Your hair is so fucking beautiful. And I'm glad you found a use for the ribbons. I didn't know what else to get you when I left."

Realising what he's saying, I ask anyway: "You..? You got me the brush, the ribbons and the ink?" I squeeze his right hand as he moves his fingers along it. He relocates his left hand from my hair to my face, tenderly rubbing my cheek with his thumb while grazing my neck with his fingers.

"I'd get you anything you wanted." His right hand begins playing with mine further, weaving our fingers together. "I couldn't just ask you.. So I got what I could think of. Was it enough, kitten?"

 _I used to hate that name. Now, though.._ Everything is different. Everything is upside down. And I never want it to go back. This feels so much better. This feels right. Like the desiring space in my mind filled with exactly what it required.

"Brash.." I respond, looking at him longingly. 

He smiles at me. An actual smile.

[[ Miami - Jasper Byrne ]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EPFDD2mqCwY)

"So, you **do** know my name!" The hand on my face moves behind my neck. He's pulling me closer. I don't resist. I don't want him to stop.

"Don't wear it out, Bright.."

I smile at him the same way he's smiling at me. A smile full of suppressed, untold words.

_He said my name._

Our faces are closer than ever before. Nearly touching.

"..You'll be repeating it a lot, after all." An alluring sneer. "I promise you that."

  
And finally, we don't hold back anymore.

For the first time, our lips lock in a warm, passionate embrace. 

The whole world freezes still. 

  
Everything else is irrelevant.  
Nothing else matters.   
Nothing else exists.   
Nothing else is real.   
Only us.   
Only us, united in this moment.

Reality stops.  
Time stops.  
Life stops.

An endless kiss.  
  


There's a certain cruelty in this kiss. Certain ravenous hunger. Untamed desire. Savage lust. Intense craving.

We only keep on going, barely taking the time to breathe. Each kiss longer than the previous. Each more passionate. Each filled with more desire.

Brash manages to speak between each kiss, not wanting to stop them to talk properly.

"I've wanted.. to do this.. for so long. Every moment.. I couldn't spend with you... Couldn't see you.. Touch you.. I wanted to fucking die."

  
His hands start wandering all over me. Touching me. Searching my whole body. Feeling every part of me he can find. But it's not enough. It's not enough for either of us. There's only so much he can find through my full armor. He means to solve that problem quickly.

His arms wrap around my waist and chest as he pushes himself away from the tree.

"Do you trust me?" 

Brash holds me tightly, slowly lowering me on my back to the ground.

"Should I?" 

I reach out to touch his chest, he pins my arm above me.

"No."

He's got me on the ground, just like after our sparring. Pinned down. His hand moving from my thighs to my stomach.

"Then, I trust you."

He shakes his head, moving his hands to the belts securing my armor, hungrily undoing them.

"I told you to always say no, sweetheart."

I reach out to his face with my other hand, he pins it the same way. I smile.

Everything feels just.. so right. Exactly how it's supposed to be.

Somehow, I've completely fallen for him.

Insatiable attacks target my, now exposed, neck. Just like in the dream. But this time, I want him to continue.

PIeces of a puzzle come together, showing what I've been missing this whole time. Showing what was always in front of me.

"I trust you completely, Brash."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I wanted to actually use is [[ Into Your Heart - Trevor Something ]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=80214E8FuBo) but it has lyrics, so I decided against it. 
> 
> I just find that song to be almost the perfect description of Bright and Brash.


	19. Dreaming of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last iteration of Bright's nightmare comes crawling.

The ground underneath me constantly sways in a fluid motion. I'm not sure where exactly I am, but it's making my stomach turn upside down. When I open my eyes, I notice I'm somewhere indoors. The last thing I remember is... the celebration? My mind is a complete mess. I can't recall anything after the witch story told by Jarlan.

Looking around, I realise.. I'm inside an inn.

_Ah. I see. It's the dream again._

While getting up, I nearly fall over. My head hurts and my vision is doubled. 

_What is going on?  
  
_

Flash.

Bang.

  
"GODS! Ow! That hurts!" I yell out at the intense sounds. Looking at their source, it's Lord Sorin. This time, he didn't wait to watch what I dream of. Perhaps his interest isn't as high as before.

His head moves as he examines my posture and movements. "A disappointing showing, acolyte. Your judgement is not as clear as I had previously thought. I hope your actions were fully influenced by that pathetic mortal brew."

I rub the temples of my head.

"What.. are you talking about? I don't remember anything." I also rub my eyes. Even if it's a dream, even if I'm fully aware of it, I still feel completely devastated.

A disgusted grimace. "I suppose you will find out. I am also curious as to what you will deem a worthy punishment for the warrior's inevitable, unavoidable betrayal."

_What the hells is he talking about? Whose betrayal?_

"Can you please speak plainly? I'm incredibly disoriented.." I lean onto one of the chairs near me, preventing myself from falling over.

Lord Sorin only sighs in disappointment. "Your total ignorance is upsetting. Completely unbefitting a Mors. Skewing your judgement in favour of an enemy? Pathetic. Not even the previous Mors would be this foolish."

  
The more he speaks, the more irritated I am. Whatever he's talking about, he's mocking me, ridiculing me. Standing straight, leaving the chair behind me, I force myself to focus.

"Foolish? Whatever it is you're talking about, your banished Mors was not foolish. It was completely justified in every way. You should have died for your sins, together with the other demon lords," I exclaim resolutely.

They've caused a reality-wide genocide. If anyone deserves to be judged, it is them. Lord Sorin doesn't seem to appreciate what I just said. His skin seems to shine violently as his expression turns furious.

"I see you are just another failed experiment. My time with you has been wasted. The only Mors features you seem to have are the same indiscretion and disrespect."

Casting a spell with his hands, he mouths off an incantation. And when he's done, his body begins morphing into a beast. A full-grown dragon. Roaring at me in fury, ready to cast fire. This transformation came as a sincere surprise, but.. I've had enough practice with the unexpected in my dreams. If I can deal with something like this, it will be here.

  
The dragon roars, " J O I N M O R S I N O B L I V I O N !"

 _What?! Does he mean to banish me, also?_ I only manage to take a few steps backwards at the terrifying roar.

  
Leaning its head back, the dragon prepares to cast fire. I suppose this is how I am to be banished. But.. It's my dream. He said before that even though he is real, this is only a dream. And it is my head. Maybe I can stop this.

The dragon's head charges towards me, opening its jaws.

_Quickly, think of something. A place. A safe place. A place with something to block-_

Rocks.

Fire pours out in a fan from the dragon's jaws.

I close my eyes and think of that place. 

I think hard.

Imagine it exactly.

A heat overtakes me.

I open my eyes.  
  


We're not inside the inn anymore, we're at the eastern clearing where me and Brash trained. A massive rock stands in front of me. I see fiery explosions at its sides.

_I managed to change the setting of the dream. And with the rock right between us, it stopped the fire._

This must mean.. The rules of my dream apply to him, also. He may be real, but this is **my** head. My rules. Even if his body isn't actually here, he still has to obey the dream and its reality.

_I wonder, how far can I extend this power? I know I can't kill him, he's clearly too powerful, but what exactly can I do?_

The fire subsides, he's realising what happened.  
  


"I M P R E S S I V E ," the dragon roars again, this time less wrathfully.

_I need to somehow make him leave my dream. Perhaps my entire life, too._

  
Before I can think of a response, the dream changes again. Not on my command. We're standing on the red, desolate plane he showed me last time. Inferno.

A beastial, demonic laugh comes out of the dragon. I am exposed once more, but he doesn't seem to be charging an attack. I suppose if he did, I could just change the setting again. It also looks like he's changing back to his original form. His wings shrivel up and shrink, his head simply morphs back.

"You're nothing compared to my Mors. I will not waste any more time with you. Greet it for me, when you meet it."

Lifting his arm, he casts a spell towards me. Instantly, my body freezes still. With a motion of his hand, I begin floating towards him.

I scream out, "What are you doing! Stop!"

When I reach him, he quickly draws a few incredibly complicated symbols around me.

"Enjoy oblivion!" His fist clutches, the symbols press into me.

_Oblivion._

I shut my eyes.

_Eternal doom._

_...  
..  
.  
..  
..._

Nothing.  
  


" **What**! How did you do that, pest! Disappear into oblivion!"

I open my eyes. 

I'm still where we were before. Still subdued.

_Huh? His spell failed?_

Lord Sorin looks beside himself. Redrawing the symbols, he tries again. Nothing happens.

"How is this possible! You are my creation, I can do what I like with your twisted soul!"

His eyes are fiery red with anger. He draws the symbols again. Nothing. And again. Before his next attempt, though, he comes to a full stop. Frozen in place. His eyes widen in a sudden realisation of some kind.

"..So that's why she chose you. What a wicked, cunning, manipulative wretch!"

He finally turns to look right into my eyes. Intense madness. 

"Enjoy your miserable life. It will end soon. I can't wait to watch you fall into the deepest despair. I can't wait to see your warrior hound demolish your sanity."

And with one last look of outrage..

  
Flash.

Bang.

  
My body drops down from the airborne hold, down onto the ground of Inferno.

_What just happened? I seem to have avoided eternal suffering.. somehow._

I exhale. I assume this also means no more information from Lord Sorin. I doubt anyone in our group knows anything about demons or demonhearts to help me.

_Fuck this place._

I close my eyes and imagine a calm place.. A beautiful place.. A place without any of this desperation. I know I'll have to wake up eventually. I never dream of anything nice.  
  


I let my mind go wild on its own.

_Show me something calm._

I open my eyes again and..

I'm in a forest. I don't know anything about this place. A big, old tree stands in the middle of the area. A giant sword blade is buried into the ground.

I approach to examine it. It's soaked in crimson red blood.

_How the hells is this supposed to be calming?_

Deciding against letting my mind do what it wants, I think back to the inn. I'm sure I can figure out a way to have the dream end nicely.

And.. the area disappears, slowly turning into the inn. It looks exactly like it did when I saw it first in Feline. People everywhere. None of them have any faces. I don't know them. They're not important.

  
Approaching the bar, I sit down on a stool and examine the pamplet in front of me, choosing what meal and drink to order. Merry voices overwhelm the entire building.

"Can ye see how full the inn is?" Sybil asks from behind the bar, following with a wink. "Can I take yer order?"

_No. Someone else._

"Can you see how full the inn is?" a blonde woman asks from behind the bar, following with a smile. "Can I take your order?"

"I'd like to order one of 'Love's Misery' and a pint of beer-"

A few heavy steps approach me.

"Make it two of each, then."  
  


I turn around to see. It's Brash. But his whole armor and head are bloodied. _Thanks, brain._ I look back at the bartender and nod at her. Brash sits down on the stool next to me, even moves it closer. Our legs and arms touch permanently when he's near enough. Some blood stays on my armor. 

I grimace uncertainly, "Why so close? I remember you happily telling me off with the earlier gesture," I say while looking around for the waitress. It shouldn't take long to cook imaginary food, should it? He's just staring at me. Piercing me with his concerned, unamused gaze.

I squint at him, "..Okay, then."

We sit there in silence. I think of all kinds of things. A certain thought intrigues me. _Can I affect more than just my surroundings? Can I also affect myself? Could I shrink or fly?_

I suppose I can always try later. Right now I'm starting to feel incredibly desperate and sad. I look at Brash again. His expression mirrors mine. Something happened, I can't remember what. Maybe my subconsciousness does..?

"Sir, did anything happen after the celebration? I'm only getting a blank."

The order arrives. A pint and a meal for us both. I try out the meal first... A desperate taste. Now the pint... The same kind of desparation. Sorrow and regret follow closely. I shake my head in disappointment. _I suppose my ability to control my dreams still leaves a lot to be desired._

"A lot happened, Bright. A good thing, but at the same time a horrible, devastating thing. For both of us. Regardless of what we want, it won't end well. From happiness, we will only lead each other to insanity," Brash answers with an unusual voice. A broken voice.

_Why.. did he call me by my name? Well.. This isn't such a bad dream, at least in comparison to the previous ones. I'm actually glad to be in his company._

"Why would you lead me to insanity? I think you're keeping me from it most of the time. At least, when I know what you're thinking."

Brash sighs. "Staying with me will only bring you pain. Save yourself and run."

I frown hearing him say that. "What if I don't want to run from you? I.. rather.. enjoy being around you."

  
Brash stands up from the stool. Looking over at it, I see the entire area covered in blood. It keeps dripping from his armor. Now standing behind me, he turns my stool around so I can face him. Offering me his hand, I accept immediately. He pulls me into an embrace and says, "Half-circles with your feet. We move together. Got it?"

I nod as my arms envelop him even tighter. For some reason, holding him close is the best thing I've dreamt of in ages. I don't want to let go, his presence offers the biggest comfort I can imagine.

Moving around in an empty part of the inn, we begin to dance slowly. I rest my head against his bloodied armor. I don't care about it, all I want is to be close to him. I have no clue what happened, but something changed. I find myself longing to never leave his side again.

"Bright?"

I smile and look him in the eyes.

"Yes, Bra-"

He kisses me. Desperately. A kiss full of sorrow and guilt.

Instantly, he tears away from me.

"Do you trust me?"

I frown at the change of behaviour.

"Completely."

He sneers wickedly.

"Good. That will make this much easier."

Before I can even express surprise..

  
A sharpness enters my chest, right at my heart.

His sneer holds still.

Blood pours from my wound.

A dagger.

He's clutching its handle.

Blood veils us both completely, now.

Crimson red drowns the whole room.

Brash moves my body around, still dancing.

When there is no more air for us to breathe, he leans in close and kisses me one last time.

A kiss of true passion and devotion.

  
I awake.  
  



	20. Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An awakening. Slowly trying to recall the events of last night, Bright collides with Brash about it. The departure from the camp is here.

Warmth reaches my face. A cosy, comfortable, perfect kind of warmth. Not only on my face, also on my entire body. As if I were covered by a soft, summery cloud.

Slowly opening my eyes to adjust to the Sun, I quickly realise my location. I am not in the camp. Startled by this realisation, I frantically look around. A forest, it looks awfully like the one surrounding the camp. I can somewhat remember the celebration.. and drinking. More than I should have, perhaps.

_Did I pass out in the forest? Oh Gods._

My head is absolutely killing me. The ground looks like it's moving, as if it were pulling me closer and closer. I feel like throwing up. The birds' songs are splitting my head in two.

_Fucking.. birds._

"Shut up already, you bird bastards!" I yell out. That did not help. My yelling only makes my head want to explode. I hold it in my hands and try to rest for a second.

_Okay, Bright. Deep breaths. Let's see about figuring out what the hells happened last night._

Attempting to sit up, I finally notice what was keeping my body so warm. It's a cloak. And I don't have one, so it's not mine. A white cloak. Pearl white. A Scarcewall cloak.

_..Whose cloak is this?_

Thinking about, it obviously has to be either Jarlan's or Brash's. The soldiers don't wear them. And considering the size of the cloak, it's definitely not Jarlan's.

_Right, so I woke up in a forest with parts of memory missing. Covered in Brash's cloak. Yeah, this doesn't seem good at all._

Lifting the cloak off me, it is only then I notice my chest armor completely taken off. Everything else is still in place, but my chest is only covered by my shirt. Barely. It's almost been torn apart - the cleavage bears a rip down to my stomach.

_It's only going to get worse, isn't it? Did me and Brash.. Oh Gods. I still have everything else on, none of the other belts are undone, so.. maybe nothing more happened?_

  
I reach for my armor. It's placed next to me. I start putting it back on, when-

 _ **"** Oh, my dear. Even yelling at the birds." _A laugh. _ **"** Your night has been most concerning to watch."_

I close my eyes and sulk in my mind for a moment.

_Great, and now **you** 're here, too. Care to share more lies with me, deciever?_

_**"** ..Have you found out what demonspawn are, yet?"_

The only time I've heard it brought up was after mentioning.. _'A son of a demon and a witch'. Why is knowing what that is supposed to make me believe you?_

An amused chuckle. _**"** I thought you were intelligent enough to make the connection. As I said, I am Orchid's son, believe it or not. Usually demonspawn aren't born to witches, as witches would rather study them than bear them. Orchid's wish seems to have been different."_

I pause while buckling one of my stomach belts.

_..Are you trying to say Orchid bore the child of a demon? Do you think I'm that gullible to believe you?_

A vicious laugh. **"** _Actually, from what I've read about you, you definitely are. You see, Orchid spent most of her pregnancy writing down important notes. Letters addressed to me. Information about you occupied the majority of them. After all, she meant you to be my immortal mentor."_

My head feels like it's about to errupt. Not only from the sickness, but from what this voice is telling me. 

_Okay, if I were to believe you, and I'm not saying I am, explain to me how it is you're alive? She died carrying her child._

_**"** Your statement is technically correct, even though you don't know how exactly. Orchid's death was always going to happen. She knew it the whole time. When demonspawn are born, they kill their mother in the process. Nothing could have prevented that."_

  
Silence.

_  
You.. killed Orchid during birth? But.. the officers said her death was gruesome. When I asked about a child, they said there was none._

_**"** Well, our demonic nature takes over us completely in the first moments of life. I can't exactly recall what happened, but her death was indeed.. heinous. When it was all over, magic took me away into Inferno, into an abandoned lair. I suppose she wanted to keep me safe for the first weeks of my life, in case you weren't there."_

Another silence. What he's saying seems so impossible, yet.. It could be true.

_She.. she wanted to have a demon child? She would die to have you? Why the hells would she do that? I thought she was just peculiar at times, but this is truly mad._

_**"** Perhaps to some extent, she was. I can't tell you why she wanted this fate. What I **can** tell you, is that your execution was never the plan. Orchid's labour began earlier than she had anticipated. The sequence of events was truly unfortunate. But, at least you were turned in time."_

  
I'm done with my armor, it's tightly covering my chest and neck again. The amulet sits warm on my skin. Seeing my bag next to me, I take it from the ground and put it over my shoulder. Before leaving, I also look at the cloak. It's on the ground now. My stomach tenses looking at it. Something's wrong. Something important happened last night.

_**"** I am glad to see you are finally willing to listen to reason. Of course it will take time for you to believe me, but you will grow to trust me completely soon enough. After all, you can only trust **me**."_

My body shivers hearing that. I pick up the cloak from the ground and move my fingers over it. So soft and warm. I have an intense desire to wrap myself into it.

_You said you watched me last night? Can you tell me what happened? My memory is still hazy._

A laugh. _**"** Oh my, you honestly don't remember? I suppose it was all the liquor, after all. I cannot imagine you having actual feelings for the barbarian!" _ And another laugh.

I frown, still staring at the cloak.

_Feelings for.. who - Brash? What the hells happened? I can only vaguely recall even talking to him at the celebration. How did I end up here? With his cloak, too?_

_**"** Well, as difficult to believe as this might be, you two almost.. 'made love'."_

He retches in disgust. _**"** After some of your pathetic confessions, you fell asleep. He watched you with such ravenous hunger, it somewhat unsettled even **me**. That fire in his eyes. It clearly took every fiber of his being to move away."_

Shocked at what the voice, or I suppose 'Raze', is saying, I can't even respond. I clutch the cloak tighter in my hands.

_**"** Afterwards, he fell asleep right next to you. And once he woke up and saw you still sleeping... A complete transition between contempt, guilt, sorrow and right back to anger. I suppose the brute cannot help himself - it is his nature, after all."_

  
Holding the cloak on my chest, I lift my eyes from it. The tree. I slept next to the tree that appeared in my dreams. It's significant. Whatever happened here, this tree is important to me. I see smoke in the distance. I suppose that's the camp. Taking deep breaths to calm myself down, I walk towards it.

_So.. you saw the entire thing..? Do you watch me all the time or.._

_**"** Yes. At least, most of the time."_

My eyes widen. _Great._

Along the way to the camp, I find two completely shattered jugs. It almost looks like somebody threw them against a tree.

_**"** Now that you finally believe me, I'll be able to help you on the way. I have not been wasting time, sitting in Inferno. Orchid left me a complete library of secret knowledge, as well as the letters. Do you have any questions I could perhaps answer, my darling?"_

I cringe at the name. _Don't call me that. I'm not 'yours' anything._

A chuckle. _**"** You will be, soon and of your own free will."_

I exhale in frustration and don't address him anymore.   
  


I arrive into the camp once again. The moment he sees me, Jasper runs over to me and forces me into a hug. "Bright! Gods, we've been so worried about you! Nobody's seen you after the celebration. Where were you? Are you okay?"

I shut my eyes, trying not to think about what Raze told me. "I'm fine. I think I overdid it with the beer, and I passed out in the forest." I laugh lightly, if only to comfort Jasper.

He pulls away from me and examines my face with distress, concern, worry. "No more drinking then, okay? We're departing soon. I'll be by your side during the mission to protect you."

My eyebrows sink. His fondness and care for me seem to have only increased over time. I wish I could say the same about him, but that would be a lie.   
  
My mind is still a complete mess, so I can't recall what happened to make me and Brash get so close. When I think about him now, something is different. No more of the constant anger at his instability of behaviour. I feel like I can trust him with anything, but.. I've trusted people before. Even if I don't want to doubt my feelings, I need to use my brain. Just like he would say. 

"I can protect myself, Jasper. I trained as hard as I could, I'll be-"

"If you're done swallowing his load, can we fucking go?"

  
I turn to the voice immediately. Brash. I inhale excitedly, my heart skips a beat with no prompts, my lips form a smile without me even noticing. I want to run towards him. More than anything in the world. But.. He only gives me a deadpan look in return.

Glaring at me with a raised eyebrow, he sneers, "The fuck are you staring at, whore? The three of you Feline cunts better be fucking ready in five, or we're leaving without you," he barks out as he turns around and walks towards Jarlan and another soldier.

And suddenly, the world loses all colour. Somehow, life seems more miserable than usual. The soldiers become louder. My heart grows quieter. 

_Surely, he doesn't mean that? Raze said we came very close last night. Maybe he also hardly remembers what happened. But.. he did see me in the forest, sleeping right next to him. He gave me his cloak._

So this is how it's always going to be? Just when I think I understand him or have any grasp on what he's thinking, something snaps and he turns into a completely different person.

I'm slowly coming to. I.. don't think what I did last night, whatever it was, got triggered by the beer. I think that only broke my barriers. For the first time, and with a clear mind, I realise my affection for him. Every insult hurts just a little bit more, knowing this.  
  


_How am I supposed to keep my mind clear during the mission now? All I can think of is.. Brash. Fucking hells._

"He's such a monster," Jasper finally speaks. "Bright, can you wait here? I'll bring Tounnes. He's saying goodbye to Fisher and the other archers."

I nod as I sit down on the ground. Jasper walks away. 

My head sinks. It still hurts. Bringing my hands to the temples, I rub them in circles.

_..Half-circles..?_

I somewhat remember the dream I had. _Lord Sorin.. he tried to do something. Banish me?_

I pull out my journal and write all I can recall before we have to leave the camp.

\------  
 **Journal Entry #6**  
A twisted version of the inn dream. Lord Sorin appeared, pestered me for drinking and told me I am 'not good enough to be his Mors, even if the last one was foolish'. I remember saying that Mors was correct and he should have died. After that comment, Lord Sorin attempted to banish me unsuccessfully.

Brash was also in the dream, right after Lord Sorin disappeared. He told me he would betray and hurt me. Just like Lord Sorin mentioned. And then he killed me, exactly like in the other dreams.

We both seem to have got rather drunk during the celebration. A complete blank is coming out. I can't help but feel demolished. The second he saw me, his expression turned hateful. Worse than ever before. Just as my heart felt elated at seeing him, it broke the second he glared at me in that spite, that disgust.  
\------

Footsteps approach. _Must be Jasper returning with Tounnes._

I look up. It's the one and only, the knight.

"Give me my cloak back," he extends his arm towards me. Examining his expression, it's filled with merciless anger. Devoid of kindness. I hand it over to him. He takes it back swiftly.

"You better forget everything about yesterday. I can't believe I let a dumb whore like you get to me," he begins snarling and growling.

I look away from him, aiming my sight to the ground.

"Thank Gods I was drunk to oblivion, coming anywhere near you sober is embarrassing."

My hands clutch the journal in my lap tightly. My vision blurs.

"You're just a distraction from this war. Meaningless. I'd not even look at you twice if you didn't have to come along with the group, like the fucking burden you are."  
  
A few tears follow slowly. My lips part as they tremble.

"I should have just fucked you and left you there. You're **worthless**. A fucking **waste of space**. Go run to Ravage and join your insane, murdering cunt. I never want to fucking see you again after we're done."

Listening to what he's saying hurts like a dagger to the heart. I can't breathe. I place one hand on my chest, exactly on the amulet, to calm my erratic, desperate breathing and stop myself from losing my mind.

Brash walks away in robust and determined steps, heading back to Jarlan.

_**  
"** ..What is happening, my darling? I'm sensing intense panic from you."_

My tears completely flood my face, still pouring onto the journal.

_I've just.. had my heart broken.. in the most horrible way possible. I can't breathe._

A short pause.

_**"** I.. believe I can help. I need you to pull the amulet out from under your armor. Then hold it in both your hands."_

With my entire body shaking in panic and desperation, I do what he says.

_**"** Clutch the gem tightly."_

I do.  
  


The amulet feels warm since me and Raze are talking. It's also.. calming my mind. Slowly, my entire being fills with the warmth that's pouring from the amulet. My body stops shaking vigorously. I can breathe again. I am still feeling absolutely destroyed, but at least my body isn't reflecting it anymore.

_How did you do that?_

A chuckle. _**"** Like I said, I've learned a lot already. This gem is apparently not only allowing communication, but also certain spells. I'm slowly learning them all."_

I look at the gem in my hands. Steady hands. Crimson red gem.

_..Thank you... Raze._

_**"** Always."_

  
With my body calm, I stuff my journal into the bag and get up from the ground. Steps approach me again, different direction.

"Here we are! Sorry we took so-"

Jasper sees my face. It's still full of tears, even if I'm not crying anymore. He rushes to me and holds me gently by my arms. "Bright, what is it? Did something happen?"

I wipe my tears off and smile. "No, nothing. I've just.. had a small breakdown over.. the mission." I've no need to tell him my deepest fears and thoughts. I don't feel that kind of connection with him, anyway.

Resolutely, he assures me, "I won't- I mean, we won't leave your side. We will protect you. Right, Tounnes?" Tounnes squints at me, as if examining my expression deeply. I also see him eyeing the amulet.   
  
"..I suppose?"

Raised voices gain our attention. It's coming from where Brash stomped off to. Looking in the direction, I see it is indeed Brash arguing with Jarlan. We missed most of the argument, but still manage to hear something.

  
"..ye mean by that?"

"Nothing. I'll get it done whatever it fucking takes."

"Ye better. Ye know wha' happens if-"

"No shit! Fuck off already! I've got it under control."

Jarlan shakes his head and then pats Brash's arm as he leaves. Brash stares at the ground for some time, then he calls out to a soldier waiting nearby.  
  


"Pick your shit up, Garrosh. We're fucking leaving this shithole." The soldier does so. Brash turns around and sees us all together. He grins furiously. "Come already, you cunts. And stay fucking behind. Only me and Garrosh are front. You're all useless, anyway."

Gesturing to the soldier, they head towards the southern exit. Me, Jasper and Tounnes first look at each other, but soon enough we walk behind them, keeping a considerable distance.

_**"** I suppose your journey won't be very enjoyable, will it? At least you have me to offer you pleasant company."_

I frown. 

_..Seems that way._

  
Quickly, I check one more time if I have everything.  
My weapons - yes.  
All armor parts - yes.  
  
Now my bag.  
Poison - yes.  
Journal - yes.  
Ink and feather - yes.  
Brush, ribbons - yes.  
Mirror - yes.  
Cat figure - yes.  
The.. fucking book - yes.

I contemplate leaving the book here. It really is rather large and heavy. And knowing it's from Brash... _Ughh. Fuck it. I'll keep it for now. Maybe we will need to.. start a fire. I'd gladly offer it for that._

It seems I am ready. And we've left the camp. Never to return here.

Me, Jasper, Tounnes, Brash and another Scarcewaller - Garrosh.

My freedom is supposed to return to me once the witch is dead. Once the attacks stop. Once the mission is completed.  
  


_I hope we're strong enough to kill the her._

  
***

  
YOU WILL BE.

EVENTUALLY.

I WILL HELP.

NOT EVEN OBLIVION CAN STOP ME.


End file.
